Welcome back, dear readers. Today we have a special treat for you - our very own McSmutty is marking homework again! We hope you enjoy, if not... well, you can't win them all! Thanks to FangMom for helping us getting this in shape.
Stephenie owns Edward Cullen. Edward Hawkins, on the other hand, owns us.
Working out the kink. By Edward Hawkins
I feel the bile rise as I put LeiasLuke's assignment down. I thought – no, I hoped – he wouldn't stoop any lower than that Wookie wack-off thing, and here he is, proving me wrong. I want to gouge my eyes out and bleach my brain, and I will never ever be able to go to the circus, or any other place possibly presenting a clown, again, without wondering if it's LeiasLuke in the costume. Although judging from the piece he wrote, he wouldn't be. He'd be behind the clown, with his pants by the ankles, humping it fervently like a horny little dog.
Maybe I should call McDonald's and warn them about a potential Ronald McDonald molestor.
I really did not need that mental image. I guess he managed to show what fetish he chose, only I'm thinking he failed the part where he was supposed to make it sexy. I can't even think of something to comment on his homework. Part of me wants to run it through the shredder, pretending I never even got the damned thing, but I'm too much of a professional to go through with it.
I slump forward, put my head against the desk, and decide I need something to wipe the clown sex off my brain. I hastily reach for the next assignment, hoping that it's a little less traumatizing.
Well, well, well, Miss Netracullen. Let's see what you have for me today. Is it possibly inspired by that burly, muscular male specimen who you obviously have the hots for? I think it may be.
The Pair by Netracullen
As soon as she slipped them on, she'd felt a sense of power settle over her. She'd bought them for this very purpose, and the moment she'd laid eyes on them - sitting proudly on their own platform in the store - she'd known they were the ones. They wouldn't make her as tall as him - nothing short of a pair of stilts would - but she felt tall in them. Powerful. Commanding.
Ah. I'm guessing this is about shoes, since she feels tall. Still not sure, though. Some tense confusion in the first sentence.
Watch the tense in the first sentence,
"she'd" should be "she".
She knocked on the door and waited patiently for him to call out the typical instruction.
"Come on in!"
She turned the doorknob, relishing the ever-surging excitement that was centered deep in her stomach.
"What can - oh, hey baby!"
He looked surprised, but happy, to see her standing in his doorway. She slowly closed the door and turned back to him, her eye hooded and half a smile on her face. Her voice was clouded with lust when she returned the greeting.
"Her eye hooded" - is she one-eyed? A pirate? Or are we writing a Cyclops fetish, maybe? I'd better not say that out loud. LeiasLuke would probably write it, and I'm not convinced the outcome would be good.
I think you meant eyes.
"Hey yourself."
Without another word, she crossed his office and unbuttoned the trench coat she had on, dropping it carelessly to the ground behind her. This left her in her expensive lacy underwear... and the shoes.
Oh I like this...
"Holy fuck," he breathed as she straddled his lap, the end of the phrase cut off by her mouth crashing down on his. He matched her eager kiss, effortlessly lifting her from his lap and placing her down on the edge of the desk. Their lips remained joined as she removed her own bra and moaned at the feel of his fingers trailing down her smooth legs, taking her panties with them. When he reached the bottom of her leg he moved to take off the shoes, but she broke away from him to intervene.
"Leave them on."
The heels it is, then.
Her command seemed to spark something in him, and he voraciously attacked her mouth once again, groaning when her fingers deftly opened his belt buckle and undid his pants. His tie was next to go, and they both ignored the sound of buttons scattering on hardwood when she yanked his shirt open.
I wonder which one has the shoe fetish? Maybe both? This whole office thing definitely has some merit though...
Within seconds, he was inside her, forcing her to bite down on the skin of his shoulder to muffle a scream. Her legs locked around his back, pushing him deeper with every thrust as she struggled to maintain her silence. Their pace was furious, papers and stationary falling from the desk as his large body surrounded and owned hers. She clutched broad shoulders, tried to find purchase in his short hair and constantly fought the urge to moan and scream and beg for more.
Her orgasm hit quickly and with shattering force, leaving her shuddering and whimpering in his arms as he raced toward his own release. Lost to the pleasure coursing through her system, she hardly noticed when he stilled inside her just moments later. He hugged her small body to him as they both regained some sense of the world, and then he let her go.
She hastily clasped her bra, pulled her trench coat back on, and walked to the door, smiling saucily over her shoulder at him, breathless and slightly dazed in his chair with his shirt tails still untucked. She left the office unable to keep that same smile off her face. The sound of her shoes clicking on the floor of the car park made her laugh just a little to herself - they'd been a worthwhile investment indeed.
Well done.
The only thing I might suggest is
that you delve further into the impact
that the fetish had on their encounter.
Obviously they both have an affinity
for the shoes, but how does it affect
the sex itself?
She does have pretty good head on her shoulders, behind those cigarette fumes. I actually kind of want to go fuck someone - one person in particular comes to mind - in heels right now.
I adjust myself, put the paper aside and pick up the next one. The name on it makes me cringe. This Foxycougar woman may be my least favourite person in class, even when counting LeiasLuke. He's creepy alright, but at least he has a modest amount of writing talent. Unlike her, he hasn't tried to make a pass at me, which definitely works in his favour.
I wonder if Sara's emails would count as hitting on me… If so, she's more than welcome. To be honest, my responses to her pictures were my way of trying to let her know how she affects me, but I'm a bit worried she didn't appreciate it. This could very well be a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen, if I've misread her. She's not the obvious type of person, and I have trouble knowing how to act around her. The episode at the bar was just… awkward. Any woman would have left the table after my rant on pens. Fucking fountain pens, for crying out loud! Way to pick up a girl, Eddie. She did touch my cock that night, though. Very random and not at all on purpose, but judging from that email I got, she wouldn't be opposed to touching it again… and then some.
Focus, dammit! Just get this thing over with, then you're free to spin whatever fantasies your mind can conjure.
The Beauty and the Beast… by Foxycougar
Oh no… That title is infinitely better than her last one, but still… A little more originality would be good. Not to mention, using that as a title when publishing a fetish story online is the definition of a bad idea. It would surely not amuse the mothers who find themselves in need of explaining this odd version of the well-known fairytale to their young daughters.
Your title is better this time, although
I suggest you change it slightly to make
it more original and divert it from the
actual fairytale. You do not want young
children to find your story when googling
The Beauty and the Beast.
Tyler went to the freezer and took out the glass dildo. It was cold, just like a vampire's member would be. She would be pleased. He filled a bowl of cold water, dumped some ice in it, and went to the bedroom. She is lying on the bed, already naked and slopping wet. The proud nipples on her globes were standing up, calling to him.
Wow. She really hasn't improved at all. She may actually have gotten worse, which I didn't think was a possibility. She makes the same mistakes as last time. Did she not pay any attention to my comments?
Watch the tense. You switched
from past tense to present, just
like you did in your last assignment.
Again, you need to choose a style
and stick with it. Combining
members, proud nipples and
globes with dumping ice and
slopping wet pussy does not make
good erotica.
He made his way over to the bed, dipped his hands in the ice cold water for a minute and dried them off on a towel. When he roamed his cold hands over her tight little body she moaned and sighed, "Oh baby, just like Edward. That's it." He touched her womanly mound, seeing her glistening folds part and her swilling clitoris peek out, and he put a piece of ice in his mouth before he went down on her, eating her out for all his worth.
And we have Edward again, of course. How original to make this not only a vampire fetish, but an Edward fetish. Swilling clitoris? Is she fucking kidding me? The combination of the words "glistening folds" and "eating her out" may be one of the biggest turn-offs this semester.
Watch out for errors. I think you mean
"swelling clitoris," not "swilling,"
and the correct expression is "for all
he is worth." It's good that you use
spell check now, but please make
sure that the words fit. Even if they
are not spelled wrong per se, they
might be wrong in this particular
context. Again – stick to a style, and
beware of too heavy use of euphemisms.
She gasped when his cold tongue played with her button, just like she knew Edward would have done. "Please, I want you inside Edward," she begged, and he complied, bringing the ice cold dildo close to her entrance. He swirled it around for a while, up and down her dripping wet folds, before pushing it inside in one hard push.
I don't even know what to comment on this. Ugh. Seriously, I don't get this at all. What woman would want an ice cold mouth on her pussy, let alone a snow cone inside of it? I just cannot imagine that to be pleasant. The clitoris would go into hibernation and not come out again for years. The insides would get frost damaged, and I don't think hypothermia in your reproductive organs is recommended. What a nice thing to tell your parents. "I'm sorry. You'll never have grandchildren because I had to amputate my vagina after being involved in some vampire role-play."
Consider rephrasing the last
sentence to avoid repetition
of the word "push". You might
also want to extend the piece. It
seems a bit abrupt in the end.
I'm a bit upset by the fact that she chose the same way to write the vampire fetish as so many other women the last two years. What happened to the sexual ecstasy brought by the old fashioned vampire characters? The underlying sexuality in the biting, sucking and nibbling on the skin, the claim to ownership and possession must be much more arousing than a popsicle cock. These traits can easily be used in the kind of fan-fiction most of the women in my class write, and yet, they still go with the goddamn ice. The sexiest thing about this Cullen guy can hardly be his cold skin. I'd rather see him as dark, twisted and sexual, than a chaste guy with severe circulation issues.
My God, that was just... unsexy is nowhere near strong enough. It could be used as a surefire method of achieving immediate impotence. Teenage boys the world over would pay handsomely for instant relief from awkward boners just from reading this abomination of a story.
I push my chair back and run my hands through my hair before I grab the next paper. The title makes me sit up straight in my chair.
Caught Out of Bounds by JillM12
A teacher/student lemon, perchance? Don't mind if I do.
"Miss Sarah, what are you doing out here on your own?" he asks, his voice full of surprise and indignation. "You know this area is out of bounds."
Uh... what? Miss Sarah?
She turns, shocked at being caught.
"Oh, Mr Hawken, I was just..."
Oh no. No, no, no. This is not good. This is... Fuck. Mr Hawken? Miss Sarah and Mr fucking Hawken? Am I that obvious?
"Loitering out of bounds," he finishes for her, stepping closer. "It's not safe for you to be out here on your own, Miss Sarah. Anything could happen and no one would see."
She leans against the brick wall behind her, holding his gaze with a tiny, private smile.
"Maybe that's what I want."
Oh you want it, alright...
My hand drifts south and slowly massages my hardening cock, feeling the erection rise again after being temporarily disabled by Foxycougar's less than sexy vamp story.
He walks forward, seemingly unable to stop himself from advancing on her. Her eyes, covered with delicate glasses, hypnotize him, compelling him forward without his concious choice to do so. He's wanted her all year, but had forced down the thoughts, knowing how very risky and inappropriate it would be to take her in any of the ways he wanted her... and there were many of them.
Oh there are many indeed... Right then and there, for one.
I should be infuriated by the fact that she's so obviously writing about Sara and myself. I am angry, but I'm also growing increasingly horny and that seems to cloud my judgment. I find it hard to focus on anything else than seeing my fantasy come alive on paper, and I don't even bother to stop and make a comment about that spelling error.
But now... now they are alone, in a place no one would look for them, and he finds himself unable to subdue what he'd been fighting back for so long. Finally, finally, they make contact, his chest touching hers just slightly as he closes in on her.
"What is it that you want, Miss Sarah?" he asks, his voice so quiet and filled with all the want he'd tried so hard to repress.
"I think you know what I want, Sir."
Jesus.
Her tone matches his and he is undone.
In a lightening fast move, he wraps a strong, large hand around her neck and pulls her head backwards, exposing the smooth skin of her decolletage. His lips attack her throat and he is immersed in her scent - light and floral - delicate, like her. She presses her hips into his, mewling in surprise and raw lust at his sudden attack.
"I want you," he growls into her skin, maddened by the intensity of his desire. "All fucking year I've wanted you. Tell me I can have you."
"Take me," she pleads, then yelps in shock when he turns her around. Her hands slap onto the brick wall and she feels him, starting at the backs of her knees and trailing long fingers up her thighs until they are under her skirt and then under the hem of her girlish cotton panties.
"Say it again," he murmurs in her ear, his warm breath and close proximity only intensifying her need.
Yes... Say it. Out loud.
"Take me, please," she begs, and he is lost. Her panties fall to her ankles under his touch and she looks over her shoulder with wide blue eyes as he rips off his belt and opens his pants. She knows this will not be tender or gentle, but she craves it, wanting his desperation... it matches her's so perfectly.
I think maybe there is a possessive pronoun error here but I can't really think straight at the moment.
He steps back to her, pressing himself against her small body at every possible point of contact and slides himself inside of her. His eyes roll back into his head when he finally has her the way he's thought about so many times before, and the long sound from her makes him think he's not the only one. He slides in and out of her wet heat a few times, acclimating her to his rather considerable size, then notices her hands clenching into fists against the red bricks.
"Harder," she begs, her voice husky and saturated with desire, "I need it harder."
I swear to God, if she says that when I finally take her - because I will have her - I'm going to explode.
The words change something inside him and he drives back into her forcefully, pressing her small body into the brickwork with the intensity of his action. She cries out, accepting everything he gives her as he pounds her into oblivion, screaming and moaning and begging for more. His lips find her neck, nipping and biting at the skin there as he takes what he's wanted for so long, insane with the lust and needing more, more, more. One arm wraps around her slim waist to tether her to him, the other finds her clit, rubbing in swift circles that make her entire frame start to shake.
Her body folds in on itself as she comes, her shoulders hunching and her back bowing as she unravels... because of him. Her inner walls clutch him with excruciating tightness and he is senseless, delivering one, two, three more thrusts before he explodes inside her, his mouth on her skin and his hands on her body.
I need a Kleenex. Where are my fucking Kleenex?
Shit.
Too late.
He is lost, he is found, and she is everything.
He pulls out of her and she giggles as she pulls up her panties. She turns around and kisses him lightly on the lips.
"Wow, that was amazing! I'll see you at home tonight?" she asks casually as she slips her wedding ring back on. "Can you pick up take out on your way home if I call and order it first?"
"Absolutely," he says and kisses her again as he finishes buckling his belt. She strokes his face lovingly then heads off in the direction of the car park. He watches her walk away, then stop and turn abruptly.
"Oh, and baby?"
"Yes?" he calls back to her - his love, his wife, the mother of his children.
"Happy anniversary."
I think I may have a problem. I need to talk to Jasper. He can mark this, because I can't focus enough right now. Now, if I can just find those fucking Kleenex...
I've made a mess all over my shirt, but this time I managed to keep it off the pile of homework. I can't remember reacting like this to any of the assignments from my previous classes on erotic writing. On the other hand, I haven't had someone to fantasize about before. This has turned out to be more difficult than I thought, and I feel like can't trust myself anymore. I have always seen myself as a very professional and objective teacher, but I'm nothing of the sort anymore. This could very well end in disaster for me on a professional level. On a personal level, I have higher hopes.
After my sudden, and quite frankly unexpected, orgasm, I feel I can take on Sara's assignment without the risk of soiling it again. I take a deep breath and reach for her paper. The anticipation of seeing what kink she has chosen is causing a myriad of thoughts to rush through my mind. There are plenty of scenarios I would like to imagine her in, and I hope that this story might give me some clues on what gets her juices flowing - pun very much intended.
I feel a stir deep down as I start to read, like a current of electricity slowly igniting life into my, for the time being, limp cock.
Lust by SwedenSara
A change of circumstances, a craving uncovered. Your gaze - lustful; your touch - desperate. My thighs, spread and inviting, your body between them. A flash of green under soft locks of brown, long slender fingers undressing me, exploring me, exciting me. I want you to feel me, fill me, feast on me.
This text is... surprising. It's not prose. It's not poetry. It's... poetic prose? Prose poetry? I don't know how to classify it.
Wait a minute... Is that me? That is me.
I'm between her thighs.
She wants me to feast on her.
Hell yes.
A shift in the bed, a warm body close to me. Sweet lips on mine, hot breath on my neck. Small, gentle fingers trailing my body, a curtain of long red hair engulfing us. My eyes meet hers, my hands seek soft curves. Full breasts in my hand, slick folds awaiting my fingers. I want to touch her, taste her, tease her.
Is she inviting a woman to our bed? Fucking awesome! I wonder who she is. Do we have a redhead in class? I haven't really paid attention to that.
Her tongue, circling my nipples. Your mouth, teasing my clit. My fingers, pushing inside her. Your fingers, exploring my pussy. Sensations enhanced, my skin on fire. Moaning, mumbling, incoherent, needy. I feel warm hardness poking my cheek. Rough hands join her soft and your talented ones. A fist in my hair, demanding, decisive. Dark, wavy hair and low, southern drawl. My mouth, open and eager. I want to smell, him, stroke him, suck him.
Wait, what? What the hell happened?
Is that... That's a dude.
That is a cock poking her cheek, and it ain't mine because I'm busy eating her pussy for fucks sake! Who is that?
Oh hell no! Southern drawl?
What the fuck is Jasper doing in her text? He needs to get the hell out of there.
His cock in my mouth, pushing deep. Her mouth on my breast, sucking hard. My hand on her clit, massaging slowly. Your fingers in my pussy, curling and pressing. My legs around your body, pulling you closer. I want you to open me, overwhelm me, own me.
Take your fucking cock out of her mouth, you perverted asshole!
Hands and mouths, tongues and fingers. Sucking and licking, pushing and pulsating. I'm begging, barely breathing. Your cock, my craving. Your touch, my undoing. You take me, claim me, fuck me. He groans, she grinds. I gasp, you give. Pleasure is building, spreading, erupting.
I cry, you convulse.
We come.
What. The. Fuck.
I crumple the paper in a tight ball and throw it across the office. I glare at it from a distance. It's mocking me. No, it's even worse. Jasper with his cock in her mouth is mocking me, from that paper.
Group sex. Of all the things she could choose, she picked group sex. And why the fuck did she have to put him in there? The woman I can deal with, hell, I'd love that. But another man? That is never going to happen. Never.
Because I. Don't. Share.
And apparently, I'm going to have to let her know.