Please click here for connecting post.
The following liner notes were originally (c)(p) 1971 by Chrysalis Records for the Jethro Tull album "Aqualung".
1} In the beginning Man created God; and in the image of Man created he him.
2} And Man gave unto God a multitude of names, that he might be Lord over all the earth when it was suited to him.
3} And on the seven millionth day Man rested and did lean heavily on his God and saw that it was good.
4} And Man formed Aqualung of the dust of the ground, and a host of others likened unto his kind.
5} And these lesser men Man did cast into the void. And some were burned; and some were put apart from their kind.
6} And Man became the God that he had created and with his miracles did rule over all the earth.
7} But as all these things did come to pass, the Spirit that did cause man to create his God lived on within all men: even within Aqualung.
8} And man saw it not.
9} But for Christ's sake he'd better start looking.
This blog post, but not the liner notes, (c) 2015 Books by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
I Am A Linear Kind Of Guy
Like I mentioned in a previous post, I'm a linear kind of guy. I'm not the kind of writer who jumps from scene to scene or chapter to chapter while writing a story. I find that to be very confusing, in not downright annoying.
I like writing a story that unfolds in a proper sequential order. You know, part A slides into part B, which slides into part C, with a slight detour back to part A so that part D makes sense. Etc., etc., etc.
I also like writing a story that if its destined to be part of a series, in chronological order as well.
So it bothered me greatly that while I was working on a total rewrite of this, the memory of a 99% completed prequel to that book came to the forefront.
Naturally, the first word that popped into my head was, "Shit."
Why this particular select adjective?
Because it was appropriate for the moment, in that the following scenarios were sadly executed.
1} We come to a complete stop with our writing, because, how can you properly write what is now part 2 w/o fixing/finishing part 1?
2} We were able to find said prequel both in our serious large slushie pile and our old XP computer.
3} A brief skim of the contents of said prequel told us in no uncertain terms that it was much easier to complete and tweak said prequel than to complete book two then have to go back and make the prequel fit book 2.
So.
Going back to the prequel, we took it plus a small pad, went to the outside deck and preceded to closely examine what exactly it is I have.
First thing that I saw wrong was the chapters for plot two. Back in the day when I wrote this, I decided to write two separate plot lines and have them eventually merge, much like I did with the original novella. Problem was that the more my memory became refreshed, the less likely that plot #2 would have something of a home in the prequel, even though it sort of mirrored the 2nd plot in book two. So that got yanked out and put aside for future use (yes, I'm not about to completely pitch twenty pages of a good story).
Next on the plus side, I actually started rewriting this thing and got about three pages done before I decided to cry Auntie 'Em. So at least the way I wrote the characters in the first are matching up with the characters in the 2nd.
I also performed some basic research with this prequel. Seriously, I researched some various honeymoon spots, then decided on Virginia Beach. Also researched some driving routes and when I finally settled on one, I worked that into the story as well.
In this prequel, the sexual scenes (some overt, some not so overt) that I wrote were vastly improved from what I was writing earlier (What-Bam-Thank-You-Ma'am), so I'll only do a little tweaking.
Additionally, this was the first novel in which I tried to properly write about interracial relationships, which isn't easy if you've never been in one beyond being friends with certain members of the opposite sex. Even though overall I did a good job writing the relationship, it could use a little more tweaking, so to speak. Especially since the new version of the novella has a better balanced ying/ yang relationship. The relationship in the prequel is more one sided and thus has the ability to turn people off.
Finally, while the novel is 99% complete, the remaining 1% shouldn't be too difficult to write. After all, I do have roughly 36 pages of the novella rewritten, so making sure the ending of the first does fall seamlessly into the beginning of the second will be a piece of cake.
So there you have it my friends, the seriously long version of why I'm switching writing projects yet again.
(c) 2015 Books by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
I like writing a story that unfolds in a proper sequential order. You know, part A slides into part B, which slides into part C, with a slight detour back to part A so that part D makes sense. Etc., etc., etc.
I also like writing a story that if its destined to be part of a series, in chronological order as well.
So it bothered me greatly that while I was working on a total rewrite of this, the memory of a 99% completed prequel to that book came to the forefront.
Naturally, the first word that popped into my head was, "Shit."
Why this particular select adjective?
Because it was appropriate for the moment, in that the following scenarios were sadly executed.
1} We come to a complete stop with our writing, because, how can you properly write what is now part 2 w/o fixing/finishing part 1?
2} We were able to find said prequel both in our serious large slushie pile and our old XP computer.
3} A brief skim of the contents of said prequel told us in no uncertain terms that it was much easier to complete and tweak said prequel than to complete book two then have to go back and make the prequel fit book 2.
So.
Going back to the prequel, we took it plus a small pad, went to the outside deck and preceded to closely examine what exactly it is I have.
First thing that I saw wrong was the chapters for plot two. Back in the day when I wrote this, I decided to write two separate plot lines and have them eventually merge, much like I did with the original novella. Problem was that the more my memory became refreshed, the less likely that plot #2 would have something of a home in the prequel, even though it sort of mirrored the 2nd plot in book two. So that got yanked out and put aside for future use (yes, I'm not about to completely pitch twenty pages of a good story).
Next on the plus side, I actually started rewriting this thing and got about three pages done before I decided to cry Auntie 'Em. So at least the way I wrote the characters in the first are matching up with the characters in the 2nd.
I also performed some basic research with this prequel. Seriously, I researched some various honeymoon spots, then decided on Virginia Beach. Also researched some driving routes and when I finally settled on one, I worked that into the story as well.
In this prequel, the sexual scenes (some overt, some not so overt) that I wrote were vastly improved from what I was writing earlier (What-Bam-Thank-You-Ma'am), so I'll only do a little tweaking.
Additionally, this was the first novel in which I tried to properly write about interracial relationships, which isn't easy if you've never been in one beyond being friends with certain members of the opposite sex. Even though overall I did a good job writing the relationship, it could use a little more tweaking, so to speak. Especially since the new version of the novella has a better balanced ying/ yang relationship. The relationship in the prequel is more one sided and thus has the ability to turn people off.
Finally, while the novel is 99% complete, the remaining 1% shouldn't be too difficult to write. After all, I do have roughly 36 pages of the novella rewritten, so making sure the ending of the first does fall seamlessly into the beginning of the second will be a piece of cake.
So there you have it my friends, the seriously long version of why I'm switching writing projects yet again.
(c) 2015 Books by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
Monday, February 9, 2015
Rain, Rain, Rain
Click here for companion post
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain cascaded down in gentle pine scented drops, coating Jacqui in a cool sheen of aloe as she walked through the forest. Wiping the rain from her eyes, she saw off in the distance, a small globe sitting on a miniature pine tree, and realizes that she's almost home.
Walking up the pathway, she notices that one of the rain barrels is overturned and partially smashed. Upon closer inspection, she sees a medium sized red spot on the barrel, and a long reddish-green trail heading off to the left that disappears into the brush.
Worried, Jacqui leaves her knapsack on the porch and cautiously opens the front door. Poking her head in, she briefly looks around the living room, before taking a few steps inside.
Grabbing a bat from the hall closet, she calls out, "Hello?" and waits for a response. With only silence greeting her, she decides to check out the rest of the cabin. Going from room to room, she finds nothing. Inside her bedroom, she opens the window for some fresh air, and sees light pouring out of the root cellar.
Heading outside, she walks over to the hatchway, knocks on the door, and asks, "Anybody there?"
"Jacqui?" answers a female voice pensively.
"Yes Sandra. Who else would there be knockin' on the door?"
"Undesirables."
"Really?"
Jacqui opened the door and wondered what Sandra got herself into this time. As she got to the bottom of the stairs, the loud melodic voice of a female fucking herself silly said it all. Sighing, she knocked on the door labeled Toys and Play Things and said, "Sandra Denise Cobra, you come out right this instant."
The door cracked open and out slithered a female humanoid king cobra. Buxom with curly auburn hair and a silver nose stud, Sandra was sporting a very unfashionable black eye as well. Jacqui took a closer look at the swollen eye and frowned.
"You didn't."
Sandra didn't say anything. Instead, she handed to Jacqui a large roll of bills. Jacqui took the roll, examined it for a few seconds, frowned even more, and said, "You did. Is he in there?"
Sandra nodded and slithered back into the room. Opening the door, Jacqui wasn't too surprised to see a rather long line of voluptuous women anxiously waiting for their turn at bat.
In the far corner of the room, was a lounge chair containing a nude man securely four pointed and gagged. Straddling his waist was the medium built MiLF, whose voice Jacqui heard only minutes earlier, happily fucking the living daylights out of herself. Next to the chair, was Sandra holding a large syringe filled with medication.
Jacqui waited until the MiLF disengaged herself before walking over to the lounge chair. Putting her hand up for a moment, she then gave the man a closer look. After giving her approval, she said to the man, "Don't worry, you're just having a bad dream. We're all just figments of your overworked imagination."
Sandra leaned over and stuck the needle deep within the base of the man's rod. The man strained mightily against the gag, before passing out. The injection however, did its job, as the man became rock solid again.
"How long has this been going on?" asked Jacqui, who was very annoyed at what Sandra was doing.
"Two and a half days."
"I gathered that's how you got the black eye, right?"
"Yeah. I found him out in the woods lumber jacking. Man oh man, he was by far the biggest one yet."
"I can see that. Listen, didn't we agree that doing this type of playing was off limits?"
Sandra took out a piece of paper and handed it to Jacqui. Jacqui read the contents, crumpled the paper and threw it at Sandra.
"When did this come?"
"Three days ago. It's due tomorrow."
"And this is how we're going to pay the bill?"
"Seventy-five a pop for five minutes worth of pleasure and a chance at paradise."
"How many shots have you given him?"
"Counting this one, twenty-five."
"Twenty-five?! Are you mad?"
"Listen, I don't like this anymore than you do, but we need the money. I'm getting some good tips, in addition to the hefty price tag. I'm telling you, this guy is golden."
Jacqui didn't say another word. She stormed out of the cellar, and went to the woodshed to finish an antique bookcase reproduction.
Two hours later, Jacqui was applying the last coat of maple stain when a loud scream pierced through the night air and chilled her to the bone. Incredibly upset, she chucked the can through the glass window, blasted out of the shed and hoofed it to the root cellar.
Sandra was cleaning the toy room, when the lady who got to paradise, asked her about what all the racket was going on outside.
Sandra listened for a minute, turned two shades of white, and said, "Overdue bill."
"For what?"
"Trips to paradise."
~~~~~~~~~~
(c) 2015 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rain cascaded down in gentle pine scented drops, coating Jacqui in a cool sheen of aloe as she walked through the forest. Wiping the rain from her eyes, she saw off in the distance, a small globe sitting on a miniature pine tree, and realizes that she's almost home.
Walking up the pathway, she notices that one of the rain barrels is overturned and partially smashed. Upon closer inspection, she sees a medium sized red spot on the barrel, and a long reddish-green trail heading off to the left that disappears into the brush.
Worried, Jacqui leaves her knapsack on the porch and cautiously opens the front door. Poking her head in, she briefly looks around the living room, before taking a few steps inside.
Grabbing a bat from the hall closet, she calls out, "Hello?" and waits for a response. With only silence greeting her, she decides to check out the rest of the cabin. Going from room to room, she finds nothing. Inside her bedroom, she opens the window for some fresh air, and sees light pouring out of the root cellar.
Heading outside, she walks over to the hatchway, knocks on the door, and asks, "Anybody there?"
"Jacqui?" answers a female voice pensively.
"Yes Sandra. Who else would there be knockin' on the door?"
"Undesirables."
"Really?"
Jacqui opened the door and wondered what Sandra got herself into this time. As she got to the bottom of the stairs, the loud melodic voice of a female fucking herself silly said it all. Sighing, she knocked on the door labeled Toys and Play Things and said, "Sandra Denise Cobra, you come out right this instant."
The door cracked open and out slithered a female humanoid king cobra. Buxom with curly auburn hair and a silver nose stud, Sandra was sporting a very unfashionable black eye as well. Jacqui took a closer look at the swollen eye and frowned.
"You didn't."
Sandra didn't say anything. Instead, she handed to Jacqui a large roll of bills. Jacqui took the roll, examined it for a few seconds, frowned even more, and said, "You did. Is he in there?"
Sandra nodded and slithered back into the room. Opening the door, Jacqui wasn't too surprised to see a rather long line of voluptuous women anxiously waiting for their turn at bat.
In the far corner of the room, was a lounge chair containing a nude man securely four pointed and gagged. Straddling his waist was the medium built MiLF, whose voice Jacqui heard only minutes earlier, happily fucking the living daylights out of herself. Next to the chair, was Sandra holding a large syringe filled with medication.
Jacqui waited until the MiLF disengaged herself before walking over to the lounge chair. Putting her hand up for a moment, she then gave the man a closer look. After giving her approval, she said to the man, "Don't worry, you're just having a bad dream. We're all just figments of your overworked imagination."
Sandra leaned over and stuck the needle deep within the base of the man's rod. The man strained mightily against the gag, before passing out. The injection however, did its job, as the man became rock solid again.
"How long has this been going on?" asked Jacqui, who was very annoyed at what Sandra was doing.
"Two and a half days."
"I gathered that's how you got the black eye, right?"
"Yeah. I found him out in the woods lumber jacking. Man oh man, he was by far the biggest one yet."
"I can see that. Listen, didn't we agree that doing this type of playing was off limits?"
Sandra took out a piece of paper and handed it to Jacqui. Jacqui read the contents, crumpled the paper and threw it at Sandra.
"When did this come?"
"Three days ago. It's due tomorrow."
"And this is how we're going to pay the bill?"
"Seventy-five a pop for five minutes worth of pleasure and a chance at paradise."
"How many shots have you given him?"
"Counting this one, twenty-five."
"Twenty-five?! Are you mad?"
"Listen, I don't like this anymore than you do, but we need the money. I'm getting some good tips, in addition to the hefty price tag. I'm telling you, this guy is golden."
Jacqui didn't say another word. She stormed out of the cellar, and went to the woodshed to finish an antique bookcase reproduction.
Two hours later, Jacqui was applying the last coat of maple stain when a loud scream pierced through the night air and chilled her to the bone. Incredibly upset, she chucked the can through the glass window, blasted out of the shed and hoofed it to the root cellar.
Sandra was cleaning the toy room, when the lady who got to paradise, asked her about what all the racket was going on outside.
Sandra listened for a minute, turned two shades of white, and said, "Overdue bill."
"For what?"
"Trips to paradise."
~~~~~~~~~~
(c) 2015 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
Sunday, January 18, 2015
THAT
THAT:
Would be this blog ending. I'm in the rarefied atmosphere of a blogger who has been doing this for what will be 7 years come Memorial Day weekend.
As sporadic as my blogging is at the moment, I don't see myself shutting down my blogs anytime soon. I'm function on my 5th wind here (got four more to play with), and so long as the serious fix of decompressing needs to fulfilled, I will keep plugging away with my blogging.
Until then, a visit to Father Nature's Corner should be part of a completely unbalanced semi-nutritious cornerstone of your reading regime.
Because, being unbalanced is what keeps life interesting.
(c) 2015 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
Would be this blog ending. I'm in the rarefied atmosphere of a blogger who has been doing this for what will be 7 years come Memorial Day weekend.
As sporadic as my blogging is at the moment, I don't see myself shutting down my blogs anytime soon. I'm function on my 5th wind here (got four more to play with), and so long as the serious fix of decompressing needs to fulfilled, I will keep plugging away with my blogging.
Until then, a visit to Father Nature's Corner should be part of a completely unbalanced semi-nutritious cornerstone of your reading regime.
Because, being unbalanced is what keeps life interesting.
(c) 2015 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Strike 'Em Out!
"First off, I want to welcome the listeners who decided to tune in for our Wednesday night game of the week between the Brooklyn Neophytes and the Hannibal Hammers, being played in the always lovely yet completed desolate Badger Field, complete with it's very own badge swaying on the flagpole. As I mentioned earlier in the broadcast, the Neophytes are staggering along through a super-ugly twelve game losing streak, and so far, this game is shaping up to be their baker's dozen in a row. Neophyte pitcher Billy Bellingham has just finished his warm ups, so I turn it over to my erstwhile colleague Hank Coulter. Hank?"
"Thanks Nick. It seems like Billy is gonna be the sacrificial goat tonight, with his team trailing the visiting Hammers fifteen zip. For the top of third, he'll be facing the Hammer's eight through one, and boy let me tell you, they got some serious bruisers. Let's hope he can find that old black magic that has so far eluded him during this record losing streak, and in fact, has been the key contributing factor the Neophytes lack of positive reinforcement. What say you Nick?"
"I say that there's a conspiracy, or at the very least, a collusion amongst the league that has so far gotten Billy acting like a little league pitcher."
"Right you are Nick, right you are. Anyways, Billy looks in, shakes off the catcher a couple of times, finally gets one he likes, gets set and here's the windup and the pitch. Oh Good Lord, he's just uncorked a lollipop to the backstop!"
'Time!' says Markie as he slowly walks the ball back to Billy. Billy steps off the mound to meet him and holds out his glove. Markie drops the ball and says, "Problem focusing?'
'Ya think?'
'You know, no one is going to do what you want them to do. They're on to your little façade, and there's no way in hell that they're gonna put anymore players on the d.l. So please, man up, cowboy up, suck it up, get down on your knees and blow that baseball, whatever it is you need to do to snap out of this funk, 'cause you know this is it. They ain't gonan save yor sorry ass tonight unless do something. Got it?'
'Fuck you,' says Billy as he returns to the mound.
Markie shakes his head and slowly trudges back to the plate. Squatting, he throws a handful of dirt in the air, pounds his glove and sighs.
"So Nick, think that little chat Markie had with Billy will work?"
"I don't think so Hank. Anyways, Billy looks in, nods, and arrives at the set position. He seems to be taking an awfully long time to throw the ball, and I think, yes...he steps off the rubber. He's grabbed the resin bag, shakes it thoroughly, and throws it to the ground. Now he's stepping back on the rubber, gets to the set position, and here's the pitch. No, wait! The batter steps out of the box and calls time, and the umpire calls "no pitch!" Oh bad luck for Billy, as he finally got a pitch over the plate and it gets waved off."
"What a shame indeed, Nick! It looks like old Billy goat is absolutely livid. Maybe, just maybe, this was the catalyst need to jumpstart his game. Looks like the catcher is calling time again. He starts his slow walk towards the mound, but wait, it looks like he's detouring towards the dugout."
'Boss?'
'What's up with Billy?'
'Off hand, I say he's about to go apeshit.'
'Are you sure?'
'Am I sure? About as sure as your fantasy of porking the owner's trophy wife not coming true.'
'Hey, watch your mouth!'
Markie walks over to the newbie and pokes him hard in the chest with his mask. The newbie crumples to the ground, spits up a geyser of blood and passes out. Satisfied, Markie takes his leave and waits for the inevitable.
"Hank, it looks like Billy is down with his tantrum."
"Right you are, Nick. Billy steps on the rubber, here's the windup and the pitch...Oh My God!!! Did you see that Nick? Nick? Where are you Nick? Holy cow ships, Nick, what is that horrendous smell in the booth?! And what is that brown stuff oozing down your shirt. Oh My God Nick! Look on the field! It's...it's...a geyser of...MANWHICHES!!!! I think I'm gonna...."
As the sound of breaking glass, a stomach leaving someone's body and horrific screams overloads the airwaves, an authoritative voice briefly interrupts the din., "We'll return you to the game as soon as order is restored, or when enough body parts are found to create a few good players, whichever comes first. In the meantime, here's a sneak peek at our upcoming special, 'The Best Screams From The Best Low Budget Horror Movies: The Eighties' Enjoy!"
If you find this story interesting, please give some thought to checking out my short story trilogy Broken Promises, available at Smashwords.
(c) by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
"Thanks Nick. It seems like Billy is gonna be the sacrificial goat tonight, with his team trailing the visiting Hammers fifteen zip. For the top of third, he'll be facing the Hammer's eight through one, and boy let me tell you, they got some serious bruisers. Let's hope he can find that old black magic that has so far eluded him during this record losing streak, and in fact, has been the key contributing factor the Neophytes lack of positive reinforcement. What say you Nick?"
"I say that there's a conspiracy, or at the very least, a collusion amongst the league that has so far gotten Billy acting like a little league pitcher."
"Right you are Nick, right you are. Anyways, Billy looks in, shakes off the catcher a couple of times, finally gets one he likes, gets set and here's the windup and the pitch. Oh Good Lord, he's just uncorked a lollipop to the backstop!"
'Time!' says Markie as he slowly walks the ball back to Billy. Billy steps off the mound to meet him and holds out his glove. Markie drops the ball and says, "Problem focusing?'
'Ya think?'
'You know, no one is going to do what you want them to do. They're on to your little façade, and there's no way in hell that they're gonna put anymore players on the d.l. So please, man up, cowboy up, suck it up, get down on your knees and blow that baseball, whatever it is you need to do to snap out of this funk, 'cause you know this is it. They ain't gonan save yor sorry ass tonight unless do something. Got it?'
'Fuck you,' says Billy as he returns to the mound.
Markie shakes his head and slowly trudges back to the plate. Squatting, he throws a handful of dirt in the air, pounds his glove and sighs.
"So Nick, think that little chat Markie had with Billy will work?"
"I don't think so Hank. Anyways, Billy looks in, nods, and arrives at the set position. He seems to be taking an awfully long time to throw the ball, and I think, yes...he steps off the rubber. He's grabbed the resin bag, shakes it thoroughly, and throws it to the ground. Now he's stepping back on the rubber, gets to the set position, and here's the pitch. No, wait! The batter steps out of the box and calls time, and the umpire calls "no pitch!" Oh bad luck for Billy, as he finally got a pitch over the plate and it gets waved off."
"What a shame indeed, Nick! It looks like old Billy goat is absolutely livid. Maybe, just maybe, this was the catalyst need to jumpstart his game. Looks like the catcher is calling time again. He starts his slow walk towards the mound, but wait, it looks like he's detouring towards the dugout."
'Boss?'
'What's up with Billy?'
'Off hand, I say he's about to go apeshit.'
'Are you sure?'
'Am I sure? About as sure as your fantasy of porking the owner's trophy wife not coming true.'
'Hey, watch your mouth!'
Markie walks over to the newbie and pokes him hard in the chest with his mask. The newbie crumples to the ground, spits up a geyser of blood and passes out. Satisfied, Markie takes his leave and waits for the inevitable.
"Hank, it looks like Billy is down with his tantrum."
"Right you are, Nick. Billy steps on the rubber, here's the windup and the pitch...Oh My God!!! Did you see that Nick? Nick? Where are you Nick? Holy cow ships, Nick, what is that horrendous smell in the booth?! And what is that brown stuff oozing down your shirt. Oh My God Nick! Look on the field! It's...it's...a geyser of...MANWHICHES!!!! I think I'm gonna...."
As the sound of breaking glass, a stomach leaving someone's body and horrific screams overloads the airwaves, an authoritative voice briefly interrupts the din., "We'll return you to the game as soon as order is restored, or when enough body parts are found to create a few good players, whichever comes first. In the meantime, here's a sneak peek at our upcoming special, 'The Best Screams From The Best Low Budget Horror Movies: The Eighties' Enjoy!"
If you find this story interesting, please give some thought to checking out my short story trilogy Broken Promises, available at Smashwords.
(c) by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved
Monday, April 28, 2014
Audio Dynamyte!
She was a voluptuous thirty-one year old redhead, full of fire and brimstone, and was wowing them on the adult lecture circuit. No matter where she spoke, she always drew a packed house.
Tonight was no exception, as The Cat's Meow was filled to capacity. A crowd of fresh faced collegians, tired businessmen and blue collar workers, were chomping at the bits waiting for her to preach.
At precisely nine o'clock, the lights dimmed and the stage went completely black. A small spotlight comes on and slowly illuminates the center stage, gradually revealing a solitary figure.
A solitary figure that was dressed in very tight blue jeans, sneakers, and a form fitting light blue tee-shirt that bare contained her natural assets. Next to her on a stool was a c.d. player, which after a push of a button, flavors the atmosphere with a smooth jazz instrumental.
Stepping back into the darkness, she soon reappears wearing a wireless headset. She then unties her pony tail and rearranges her cherry red hair so it falls over both sides of her body.
Clearing her throat, she then lowers the volume on the c.d. player before beginning her 'lecture'. "Good evening everyone. I can see that I have a packed house tonight. Rest assure gentlemen, you will not be disappointed.
"As you can see, I have been blessed with a fantastic body. Long legs," which she points at, "a round yet firm ass," which she drops her jeans to show, "a sensual mouth," in which she places her index finger in and ever so slowly pulls it out, "and a great set of tits," in which she briefly tweaked the nipples for emphasis.
"I realized that some time ago that since I was blessed by God with such a fantastic body, that I should share it with the rest of the world. One way I've been able to do that, is to make adult movies. As you can see from the posters behind me," and the stage lights came up, focusing on a baker's dozen of adult movie posters, "I was very successful in using my body to raise awareness for God.
"Another way for me to spread the word of God, was to give live performances. How to go about doing it was the hard part. There were many, many ways for me to do it, but in the end, I settled on the way you're about to see tonight. So without further ado, the Cat's Meow is proud to present to you for your viewing pleasure, Audio Dynamyte."
She stopped her audio and stepped over to the c.d. player. Quickly changing c.d.'s, she restarted the player and stepped back to center stage. As the sound of seventies soul drifted out of the player, she started swaying sensuously to the beat. After about a minute, she undid the top button to her jeans and rolled the waistband down an inch.
"Gentlemen, as you can plainly see, I have no tan lines where it counts. And I don't think I have to explain to you how I tan, now do I?" She then turned around and showed just a brief hint of ass, before facing the audience again.
"And you can see that although my ass is very firm, it is very supple. It has been caressed by some of the hottest hunks and foxiest babes in the industry today. They can all tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God did bless me with the finest piece of booty this side of the Mississippi."
She then took her jeans and dropped them until they were under the cheek, yet still kept the front in the same position. "Woo, that's cold," she said after a blast of cool air from a backstage fan touched her backside.
"Gentlemen, this particular piece of booty, is the best that you'll ever see in your lifetime. When God created my booty, he broke the mold afterwards." She then turned her supple ass towards the audience and began to lightly run a finger over it.
"I'm going to do a demonstration and show to you just how massaging an excellent piece of ass is one of the many components...to...a...woman's...happiness." She stuttered the last four words as a small, but very intense, hot flash hit her.
"Wow, I do believe I'm getting a bit overheated," she said while fanning herself for a few seconds. A light murmuring from the audience brought a smile to her face, which helped refocus her energies again.
"Well...this is the time in our program where I do a very brief show and tell. I show you a small positive sign that the gentle massaging/feathering is doing it's job and tell you about it." At this point, she unzipped her jeans and opened the waistband.
A stronger murmur from the audience told her that she was back on track. "Gentlemen, the glistening pussy that you see in front of you, is the absolute best that God created. It has satisfied many a cock and many a pussy in its illustrious career, and more importantly, has been satisfied by many a cock, many a pussy and lips of both genders in its illustrious career.
"At this point, in order to keep that pussy glistening," and she paused to roll her tee-shirt up to the bottom of her tits, "you have to move your foreplay from playing with that soft delicate ass of your lady, to your lady's silky smooth stomach, abdomen, and of course, her scrumptious pussy."
She stopped what she was doing with her ass, and pulled up her jeans. She then disappeared into the darkness. The first thing the audience noticed was that the music changed back to soft jazz. The second thing they noticed, was a doctor's couch was being wheeled to the center stage. And finally, the last thing they noticed was that a pitcher of water was placed next to the couch.
She got herself situated on the couch, and readjusted her clothing to what it was before she left. Nodding her head, the spotlight tightened up. "Gentlemen, as you can see, it's important to bring your foreplay to the next level. Feather touching your ladies stomach and abdomen will go a long way to helping your lady build to what should be a mind blowing orgasm.
"Also, don't forget to work on that essential piece of property she owns. A little TLC, like I'm about to give you an example of, will help you achieve your ultimate goal." She proceeded to take her jeans completely off, leaving her sneakers and above the knee socks on.
"Brrr, I'm feeling a little cold up here right now. I think I better start warming up." she said suggestively. Using two fingers on her right, she playfully teased a few strands of hair, while spreading the remainder with her left.
"As you can see, with just the tiniest bit of movement, you can quickly bring your lady to that next plateau of...of...fore...play." The last few words were stuttered as the mini-orgasm that she had only started on about thirty seconds ago, nailed her good.
She sat straight up for a few seconds as a large wave of pleasure rook hold of her body, before slamming her back to the couch. Gripping the top of the couch, she white knuckled her grip as a series of small, but very intense, orgasms racked her body.
The orgasmic convulsions soon subsided and she released her grip. Exhaling, she waited for the audience to collectively finish what she'd started them off on only a few minutes ago.
While waiting for that collective "Ahhhh.....yes", she rolled up her tee-shirt the rest of the way and began to feather touch the bottom of her right tit. Almost instantly, she arched her back and began to moan softly. The audience finished catching up and soon became spellbound watching the performance.
From the darkness, someone whistled just loud enough to break her concentration. With a supreme effort, she stopped what she was doing and folded her hands in prayer. After about a minute or so, she regained enough composure to speak without losing it.
"Well....we now move on to the third part of the body that us women use as a weapon, the tits. Now it just so happens that God, in addition to blessing me with a tight ass and a even tighter pussy, has truly blessed me with a perfect set of 42D's for tits.
"To properly incorporate the tits with what you're doing at the moment, they have to be handled sensibly. Which means, to get the maximum amount of usage, the nipples simply have to be erect. The nipples are the most sensitive part of the tit, and as such, they need delicate care. Normally, the mouth would do the trick in getting them erect. The suction power that the mouth..." She paused for a moment as a sweet memory flashed across the face.
The club owner, who was watching from backstage, came out and poured a glass of water for her before delivering a loud wolf whistle. She cleared her throat again, and continued, "Yes, well...since we don't have a mouth..." Before she could go any further, she was interrupted by a wave of men volunteering their services. She smiled and waved her hands to calm the crowd down.
"My isn't this an excitable crowd tonight," she said cheerfully. Taking the glass of water, she took a couple of sips before sticking her fingers in the glass. This definitely quieted the audience, since they realized that she was now at the climax of her performance. She took her fingers and gently tweaked her nipples with the water. Slapping them a couple of times, they were soon very erect.
"Among the many talents I have, and there are an abundance to choose from, one is nipple fucking. But...I digress. Besides the areola, the nipple is one of the most sensual parts to play with. Playing with the nipples and the clit, are the one two punch that will bring to your lady, endless orgasms.
She then began the final demonstration. She took her right index finger and started to slowly work on her clit. At the same time, she flicked at her nipples for a few seconds, before switching to a gentle pinch between the fingers. As the orgasm began to build, she changed from a gentle nipple pinching, to feather circling the areolas. Building up steam, she added vocals into the mix, as she began to moan quite loudly.
Initially, the audience was silent, but as she progressively moved towards the ultimate curtain call, they became more vocal, until it seemed like they became one with her. With every breath she took and every sound that came out of her mouth, they too began building to the finish.
Crossing an invisible line, she picked up the pace and concentrated at the task at hand. She
stopped working the nipples and areolas and instead grabbed the back of the couch, while at the same time, shifting gears with her clit.
Squirming as she reached that first plateau, she kept pouring on the pressure as she got to the second, then stuck a finger in to bring herself to that orgasm.
At the summit, she sat straight up and yelled, "Oh my fucking God, good Lord Jesus Christ, you have helped me achieve nirvana! Take me home, for I am yours!" before collapsing and rolling off the couch to the stage.
"Last night at The Cat's Meow nightclub, adult movie actress Shelly Ann McPhee aka Audio Dynamyte, passed away during a performance of her one woman show God Has Truly Blessed Me. Right after she said, 'Take me home, for I am yours!', she suffered a fatal brain aneurysm. She was thirty-one and leaves behind her husband/manager Brady and her son Jamey."
(c) 2009 by GBMJr. All Rights Reserved
Tonight was no exception, as The Cat's Meow was filled to capacity. A crowd of fresh faced collegians, tired businessmen and blue collar workers, were chomping at the bits waiting for her to preach.
At precisely nine o'clock, the lights dimmed and the stage went completely black. A small spotlight comes on and slowly illuminates the center stage, gradually revealing a solitary figure.
A solitary figure that was dressed in very tight blue jeans, sneakers, and a form fitting light blue tee-shirt that bare contained her natural assets. Next to her on a stool was a c.d. player, which after a push of a button, flavors the atmosphere with a smooth jazz instrumental.
Stepping back into the darkness, she soon reappears wearing a wireless headset. She then unties her pony tail and rearranges her cherry red hair so it falls over both sides of her body.
Clearing her throat, she then lowers the volume on the c.d. player before beginning her 'lecture'. "Good evening everyone. I can see that I have a packed house tonight. Rest assure gentlemen, you will not be disappointed.
"As you can see, I have been blessed with a fantastic body. Long legs," which she points at, "a round yet firm ass," which she drops her jeans to show, "a sensual mouth," in which she places her index finger in and ever so slowly pulls it out, "and a great set of tits," in which she briefly tweaked the nipples for emphasis.
"I realized that some time ago that since I was blessed by God with such a fantastic body, that I should share it with the rest of the world. One way I've been able to do that, is to make adult movies. As you can see from the posters behind me," and the stage lights came up, focusing on a baker's dozen of adult movie posters, "I was very successful in using my body to raise awareness for God.
"Another way for me to spread the word of God, was to give live performances. How to go about doing it was the hard part. There were many, many ways for me to do it, but in the end, I settled on the way you're about to see tonight. So without further ado, the Cat's Meow is proud to present to you for your viewing pleasure, Audio Dynamyte."
She stopped her audio and stepped over to the c.d. player. Quickly changing c.d.'s, she restarted the player and stepped back to center stage. As the sound of seventies soul drifted out of the player, she started swaying sensuously to the beat. After about a minute, she undid the top button to her jeans and rolled the waistband down an inch.
"Gentlemen, as you can plainly see, I have no tan lines where it counts. And I don't think I have to explain to you how I tan, now do I?" She then turned around and showed just a brief hint of ass, before facing the audience again.
"And you can see that although my ass is very firm, it is very supple. It has been caressed by some of the hottest hunks and foxiest babes in the industry today. They can all tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God did bless me with the finest piece of booty this side of the Mississippi."
She then took her jeans and dropped them until they were under the cheek, yet still kept the front in the same position. "Woo, that's cold," she said after a blast of cool air from a backstage fan touched her backside.
"Gentlemen, this particular piece of booty, is the best that you'll ever see in your lifetime. When God created my booty, he broke the mold afterwards." She then turned her supple ass towards the audience and began to lightly run a finger over it.
"I'm going to do a demonstration and show to you just how massaging an excellent piece of ass is one of the many components...to...a...woman's...happiness." She stuttered the last four words as a small, but very intense, hot flash hit her.
"Wow, I do believe I'm getting a bit overheated," she said while fanning herself for a few seconds. A light murmuring from the audience brought a smile to her face, which helped refocus her energies again.
"Well...this is the time in our program where I do a very brief show and tell. I show you a small positive sign that the gentle massaging/feathering is doing it's job and tell you about it." At this point, she unzipped her jeans and opened the waistband.
A stronger murmur from the audience told her that she was back on track. "Gentlemen, the glistening pussy that you see in front of you, is the absolute best that God created. It has satisfied many a cock and many a pussy in its illustrious career, and more importantly, has been satisfied by many a cock, many a pussy and lips of both genders in its illustrious career.
"At this point, in order to keep that pussy glistening," and she paused to roll her tee-shirt up to the bottom of her tits, "you have to move your foreplay from playing with that soft delicate ass of your lady, to your lady's silky smooth stomach, abdomen, and of course, her scrumptious pussy."
She stopped what she was doing with her ass, and pulled up her jeans. She then disappeared into the darkness. The first thing the audience noticed was that the music changed back to soft jazz. The second thing they noticed, was a doctor's couch was being wheeled to the center stage. And finally, the last thing they noticed was that a pitcher of water was placed next to the couch.
She got herself situated on the couch, and readjusted her clothing to what it was before she left. Nodding her head, the spotlight tightened up. "Gentlemen, as you can see, it's important to bring your foreplay to the next level. Feather touching your ladies stomach and abdomen will go a long way to helping your lady build to what should be a mind blowing orgasm.
"Also, don't forget to work on that essential piece of property she owns. A little TLC, like I'm about to give you an example of, will help you achieve your ultimate goal." She proceeded to take her jeans completely off, leaving her sneakers and above the knee socks on.
"Brrr, I'm feeling a little cold up here right now. I think I better start warming up." she said suggestively. Using two fingers on her right, she playfully teased a few strands of hair, while spreading the remainder with her left.
"As you can see, with just the tiniest bit of movement, you can quickly bring your lady to that next plateau of...of...fore...play." The last few words were stuttered as the mini-orgasm that she had only started on about thirty seconds ago, nailed her good.
She sat straight up for a few seconds as a large wave of pleasure rook hold of her body, before slamming her back to the couch. Gripping the top of the couch, she white knuckled her grip as a series of small, but very intense, orgasms racked her body.
The orgasmic convulsions soon subsided and she released her grip. Exhaling, she waited for the audience to collectively finish what she'd started them off on only a few minutes ago.
While waiting for that collective "Ahhhh.....yes", she rolled up her tee-shirt the rest of the way and began to feather touch the bottom of her right tit. Almost instantly, she arched her back and began to moan softly. The audience finished catching up and soon became spellbound watching the performance.
From the darkness, someone whistled just loud enough to break her concentration. With a supreme effort, she stopped what she was doing and folded her hands in prayer. After about a minute or so, she regained enough composure to speak without losing it.
"Well....we now move on to the third part of the body that us women use as a weapon, the tits. Now it just so happens that God, in addition to blessing me with a tight ass and a even tighter pussy, has truly blessed me with a perfect set of 42D's for tits.
"To properly incorporate the tits with what you're doing at the moment, they have to be handled sensibly. Which means, to get the maximum amount of usage, the nipples simply have to be erect. The nipples are the most sensitive part of the tit, and as such, they need delicate care. Normally, the mouth would do the trick in getting them erect. The suction power that the mouth..." She paused for a moment as a sweet memory flashed across the face.
The club owner, who was watching from backstage, came out and poured a glass of water for her before delivering a loud wolf whistle. She cleared her throat again, and continued, "Yes, well...since we don't have a mouth..." Before she could go any further, she was interrupted by a wave of men volunteering their services. She smiled and waved her hands to calm the crowd down.
"My isn't this an excitable crowd tonight," she said cheerfully. Taking the glass of water, she took a couple of sips before sticking her fingers in the glass. This definitely quieted the audience, since they realized that she was now at the climax of her performance. She took her fingers and gently tweaked her nipples with the water. Slapping them a couple of times, they were soon very erect.
"Among the many talents I have, and there are an abundance to choose from, one is nipple fucking. But...I digress. Besides the areola, the nipple is one of the most sensual parts to play with. Playing with the nipples and the clit, are the one two punch that will bring to your lady, endless orgasms.
She then began the final demonstration. She took her right index finger and started to slowly work on her clit. At the same time, she flicked at her nipples for a few seconds, before switching to a gentle pinch between the fingers. As the orgasm began to build, she changed from a gentle nipple pinching, to feather circling the areolas. Building up steam, she added vocals into the mix, as she began to moan quite loudly.
Initially, the audience was silent, but as she progressively moved towards the ultimate curtain call, they became more vocal, until it seemed like they became one with her. With every breath she took and every sound that came out of her mouth, they too began building to the finish.
Crossing an invisible line, she picked up the pace and concentrated at the task at hand. She
stopped working the nipples and areolas and instead grabbed the back of the couch, while at the same time, shifting gears with her clit.
Squirming as she reached that first plateau, she kept pouring on the pressure as she got to the second, then stuck a finger in to bring herself to that orgasm.
At the summit, she sat straight up and yelled, "Oh my fucking God, good Lord Jesus Christ, you have helped me achieve nirvana! Take me home, for I am yours!" before collapsing and rolling off the couch to the stage.
"Last night at The Cat's Meow nightclub, adult movie actress Shelly Ann McPhee aka Audio Dynamyte, passed away during a performance of her one woman show God Has Truly Blessed Me. Right after she said, 'Take me home, for I am yours!', she suffered a fatal brain aneurysm. She was thirty-one and leaves behind her husband/manager Brady and her son Jamey."
(c) 2009 by GBMJr. All Rights Reserved
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