latebloomer's originals

[infinitiumus]

bro latebloomer,

These are your originals? Very well written.

Could be better if the stories are a little flesh out.. with some narrative in the beginning and end...

Just my two cents.

[latebloomer]

Originally Posted by infinitiumus

bro latebloomer,

These are your originals? Very well written.

Could be better if the stories are a little flesh out.. with some narrative in the beginning and end...

Just my two cents.

Thanks for the compliment!
Yes, they are all originals, as far as the writing is concerned.
The ideas? Well, some of them are borrowed, from here and there.

As for the style, I'm always trying for something sparse, not overly wordy, enough to set the scene and tell the story.
Like someone said earlier, I'm hoping to write something not 'run of the mill'.
I realized there are only so many variations of erotic situations.
So I try to work on the writing instead.
Sometimes it works, most times it doesn't.
It's always a work in progress...

[latebloomer]

"This is beautiful," she mused. She was wearing only the bathrobe, and nothing underneath. I knew because she flashed me, when the guy from room service was setting up the table. I tried to keep from laughing out loud, and that guy must have thought I was trying to be funny with him.

When the last bit of the food was gone, we sat quietly on the balcony. Occasionally we could hear laughter coming from the beach, and soft music playing, probably from the open-air pub near the swimming pool. I didn't want the moment to end, but the wine and, more likely the lobster, was working on my body.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked me. The lamplight shining behind her gave her short hair a golden halo.

"Probably. If you're thinking we should get inside and do something more strenuous."

She smiled her lovely smile, turning it into a soft laugh. Standing up, she gave a half pirouette and let the bathrobe drop. Despite my familiarity, the sudden sight of her body still made me catch my breath.

"You going to be sitting there watching," she teased, "or coming in to make me happy?" A few long strides took her to the bed. She turned and gave me a look, that look was all it took to make me jump out of my chair.

We spent the next forty five minutes making each other happy. We got the bedclothes all ruffled and messy. I ended up on my back watching her do her thing, her eyes close with concentration.

Her body glistened with sweat, and soft moans escaped her lips. She rocked herself back and forth, gaining a slowly quickening rhythm. I just laid back and enjoyed the view, all the way till I felt the tension building. Until I arched my own back and grunted with the greatest satisfaction.

The next few days passed too quickly, filled with long walks along the pristine beach after breakfast, lazy afternoons by the pool, downing tall cool glasses of fruit juices, and dinners in our room. In between meals, we enjoyed carnal knowledge of each other with great enthusiasm, engaging in prolonged sessions that usually ended with long soaks in the jacuzzi attached to the bathroom.

I felt closer than ever to this lovely woman. I could confess my love for her, but we had decided long ago to tip-toe around this issue. Besides, our feelings needed no expression, so plain were they, especially to others.

We received admiring glances from the other guests, a couple of whom, particularly the ladies, came up to express their admiration, and mostly to her. The hotel manager seemed equally impressed, so much so that we received complimentary cocktails when we visited the bar.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

On the last day, we packed quietly. The flight was at four in the afternoon, and the coach was waiting to bring us to the small airport. At the lobby, the manager himself came out to bid us goodbye.

The flight was smooth and uneventful, and we went through the usual routine of wine, movie and the mildly palatable airline food. We talked little, but the lingering glances she gave me spoke volumes.

About an hour from landing, we were both reclining in our seats, heads together and whispering.

"Too few," she complained.

"I know," I said, "I wish it were longer too. But four days was all I could manage."

"I understand," she sighed, "Still..."

I held her hand and kissed her gently on the cheek. "I'll see if I can get away next month," I said.

"Don't force yourself. I know your schedule."

"Well, maybe something in Malaysia then. You could meet me up there," I said, "Find an excuse."

"Like what I did this time?" She gave my thigh a soft pat.

"Yes, I heard. Overseas seminar in Thailand?" I smiled.

"I didn't tell them where it was. Mum just assumed." she said. "And what about you? Meeting new clients up north?"

"Hey, I'm always meeting clients everywhere. That's my job description anyway."

"Very convenient!''

"It is," I answered. I brushed hair off her forehead and gazed into her brown eyes. "How I wish things were different!"

She shook her head, resignation apparent in her eyes. "Let's not go there again," she sighed. "It doesn't help."

"Sometimes I just wish..."

"She'll be devastated! And I wouldn't be able to live with myself afterward..."

"I know. Neither would I."

to be cont

[latebloomer]

After that we hardly spoke, not until a hasty goodbye after the plane landed at Changi. Through customs and at the duty-free shop, she avoided looking at me, and we kept our distance. I caught myself gazing around, carefully checking for people who might recognize us.

As I queued to pay for a bottle of Chardonnay, she was in another queue paying for a smallish bottle of rather expensive perfume. I was still waiting when she gave me a small toss of her head, mouthed 'goodbye', and strode off.

In the taxi, I received an sms from her: 'Gonna spend a night at June's. I'm not expected home till tomorrow. Take care, Lin.'

Back home, I walked into the house to find Dee on the balcony watering the potted plants. I looked past the partially drawn curtains at this woman, who adopted my surname some six years ago, once again consciously searching within myself for the feelings that were lost.

"Hey, you're back!" she exclaimed, dropping the plastic watering can, splashing water onto the carpet. "Oh, I'm so clumsy!" Still giggling, she hugged me.

I gave her a kiss, forcing a smile onto my face. "You must be tired. Come, let me help you with the luggage," she continued cheerfully.

"It's okay. I'll do it myself," I said. "So what did Dr Lim say? Did you see him as you promised?"

"Eh, no..." she said, looking away from me, her voice barely audible.

"But you told me you would. Isn't it time to fill up your prescription also?" I said, trying hard to control my anger, "He told me that you're not regular with your medication."

"What?! You call Dr Lim to check up on me?" The demure exterior was suddenly transformed, and the woman I married was no longer there. The anger morphed her face into a terrible mask, her voice became shrill, and her hands were clenched into fists.

I was a whole head taller and weighed close to ninety kilos but I could feel my heart pounding. This was not the first time she had gotten so close to the edge. I remember the scratches over my face and arms, sustained when she launched herself at me some eight months ago. Eventually I had subdued her, but not before getting bruised and scratched myself, in my attempt not to hurt her.

"Look, it was Dr Lim who called me. He was checking if you were going for your appointment."

"Oh...I see..." She took a few deep breaths, looking bewildered and gazing around the room as if suddenly unsure of her whereabouts. Then the outburst was over, as quickly as it had began. I sighed with relief.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

"Oh, darling, I'm so sorry!" she started, "I know it's my fault. I know! I missed a couple of days' medicine, that's all. I was so busy I forgot."

"Have you been drinking again?" I asked. I noticed the trembling of her hands. I saw the twitching begin at the left corner of her mouth. I thought I detected a faint smell of gin in the air.

"You have been drinking, haven't you? After all that Dr Lim told you! Drink again and it'll kill you. Remember?" And I felt the familiar ache creeping up the back of my neck, felt my breath catching as if my airway was blocked.

Without a word, I turned and went back to my room, locking the door behind me. Sitting on the bed, I loosened my belt and started taking slow deep breaths. Gradually I felt the tingling at my fingertips subsiding, as did the stiffness of the fingers.

Hyperventilation. A manifestation of my reaction to extreme stress. The shallow rapid breathing, with prolonged expiration, pushes out too much carbon dioxide from the body. Resulting in numbness over the extremities and stiffness over the fingers as muscles go into spasm.

Dr Lim cost me some four hundred dollars a month, and he gave me free advice on my condition. Taking control of my breathing pattern is the easiest way to break out of the vicious cycle, he had said. It was good advice.

My wife's condition, however, was not as simple. A combination of depression, alcoholism, and what Dr Lim calls 'dysfunctional pre-morbid personality', she had been on treatment since two years ago. Her stubborn nature and inconsistent compliance to medication made her condition difficult to stabilize.

The maid I employed to look after her when I went on my business trips up and left after Dee verbally abused her and, on more than one occasion, threw things at her during her anger fits. Dr Lim's cocktail of five different pills and tablets managed to control her condition sufficiently that I felt safe enough leaving her alone at home. Besides, her retired-teacher mother comes over every third day and chats with her on the phone every evening.

It was the fourth day after I came home. It was also a Saturday, and the day when my mother in law comes over to have dinner with us.

"Dear?" Dee was talking over the sound of me chopping onions. I was cooking mixed vegetable soup, with stock made from pork ribs, scallops and dried oysters, a hearty fare which had garnered praises from my mother in law.

"Yes?" I answered, adding the onions into the boil. I started peeling the potatoes.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

"Do you think she's coming over tonight?" she asked, her expression, when I stole a look, nervous.

"I think so," I answered, knowing who she meant.

Dee had a huge quarrel with her sister just a month ago, over her non-compliance to treatment with Dr Lim. It was another Saturday dinner, and somehow the conversation swerved over to usually taboo territory. Dee was harsh and mean in her rebuttal of her sister's concerned queries and the younger girl left in a huff.

"Do you think she's still angry with me?" Dee asked. "I asked mum but she said she couldn't tell."

"You know how your sister is. She doesn't stay angry long, and I'm willing to bet she'll be here."

"I hope you're right. I wanted to apologise to her, but she wouldn't take my calls."

"Wasn't she out of town?"

"Well, she's back. Came in the day after you returned from Indonesia."

"I see." I stirred the pot, smelling the pleasant aroma. I watched the pieces of vegetables float up to the surface before disappearing into the depths. With a spoon, I tasted the soup. It needed another dash of salt.

The doorbell rang just then and Dee went to answer it. My mother-in-law came into the kitchen with a pot in her hands, the familar smell of her famous 'Heng Huah Longevity Noodles' blending perfectly with that of my vegetable soup.

"Ma!" I said, taking the heavy pot from her. She went over to the stove and stirred the soup. "Wah, smells even better than I remember!" she said, a grin on her plump face.

"Thanks!" I said, swallowing the strand of noodle I stole. "Let me get you a drink. Chinese tea okay?"

Then the two sisters walked in. Dee was shorter by a head than her sister, but more curvaceous. She was also prettier, but that was before alcohol and medication messed up her physiology.

"Dear, look what Linda bought me!" Dee said, showing me. "This is my favorite perfume, and very expensive too! Thanks!"

"You're welcome!" Linda said, giving me a glance, "Just something I got at the duty-free shop. I'm glad you like it."

to be cont

[latebloomer]

"I love it!" Dee held on to her sister's arm, her face glowing with delight. "See, Dear, I told you she'll forgive me for my nonsense. Just like you always do. You two are so good to me!"

Linda frowned, her expression momentarily awkward. She quickly recovered, and gave a short laugh.

"Come, let's bring the food to the dinning table!" suggested my mother-in-law, reaching for her pot of noodles.

"I'll help Mum," Dee said, opening drawers for the utensils, "Could you get Linda a drink? Did I tell you she just got back from Thailand?"

"Yeah, you did." I took out two Tigers from the fridge and handed one to my sister-in-law. As my wife and her mother busied themselves in the dinning hall, we pulled the tags and touched the cans gently in a silent toast.

"So, how was the seminar, Lin?" I asked.

"It was most enjoyable." She winked.

The End

very cool stuff here....

cheers

[latebloomer]

Here are a few more, shorter ones.
Four loosely based on similar theme.

[latebloomer]

The shoplifter

The fat Indian man shifted the spectacles perched on the bridge of his bulbous nose and looked at the Malay girl. Probably no more than eighteen, he thought.

She sat on the wooden chair, staring at the floor. The initial expression of defiance, had slowly dissolved to expose the fear stewing just underneath. In his many years of experience with teen-aged shoplifters, he had observed this very often. Some tried to cultivate an air of nonchalance, acting tough and untouchable, trying to put on a brave front. However, when confronted with the reality of having to face the music, their facade just collapse.

Shoplifting was a thrill many of these youngsters indulged in, mostly just for the fun of it. But it was fun only if you can get away with it. This one obviously didn't.

"So, miss, what do we do now?" the security chief said in his mellow voice. Nice body, he thought, as he looked down at her cleavage peeking from her low cut T-shirt.

She kept her head down. He thought she shook her head slightly. She certainly got them big, no, huge, he mused as he looked at her chest. "If you don't let us contact your parents, then I'm afraid we'll have to call the police."

"Please! Don't call the police! Please!" she begged. As she gazed at him, he noticed tears welling in her eyes. Her heaving chest was a feast for his eyes.

"Look, Miss, my men caught you stealing in our departmental store at 2 a.m. in the morning. What do you suggest we do?" He found his eyes lingering on her oh-so-tight jeans wrapped around her fleshy thighs. And that bared midrift! Yummy, he thought, keeping his face solemn.

"Can you please just let me go? I gave the stuff back!" she said. Using the back of hand she wiped off the tears running down her cheeks. "Please, I am willing to do anything if you'd let me go."

"The 'stuff' you were caught with was a watch worth over two hundred dollars. My man saw you palming it off the counter when you asked the old salesman to show you other models." He heard her last statement, but thought he had better played it safe with this one. It was not the first time offers like this were made to him.

"I'm sorry okay," she said softly, giving him a lingering glance. Her eyes were lovely, he suddenly noticed. He thought he could see faint freckles on her cheeks. As she pouted her lips in frustration, he moved behind his desk.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

She looked at the door for an instant, he noted, before remembering that he had locked it. Escape was not an option he presented to offenders. She stood up. "If you let me go, I'll do anything you want," she said.

He shifted in his chair. The stiff organ in his lap was making him uncomfortable. "Anything I want?" It would be such a waste, he thought.

It had been a while since he last accepted such an offer. He remembered the woman: a forty year old auntie of his own race who was caught with perfumes stuffed into her handbag. She had pleaded long and hard - her husband would beat up on her if he found out, and it would cause embarrassment to her daughter who was a teacher in government service - before he agreed to let her off. After she went down on her knees to give him a rather decent blowjob, of course.

He watched the young girl and made his decision. "You'll do anything I want?" he asked again. She nodded, a beguiling smile lighting up her face. "Anything."

"Come here then," he beckoned, indicating the erection he had been trying to hide, "Show me what you can do."

Even watching her cross the room was a thrill. Malay girls had a reputation of being good at sex. It looked like he was going to find out today.

She moved slowly towards him, bumping and grinding her hips suggestively. She kept her eyes right on him. He watched her pink tongue licked along her full lips and was mimicking her without realizing it.

And then she was right there: her full body standing a breath away, her breasts and sexy midriff at his eye level. He wrapped his hands around her behind and pressed his face right into her voluptuous softness.

She went down on one knee, set out to undo his baggy pants. "Wah, you're big!" she exclaimed when she got his erection staring right at her, "Like this I sure to die when you fuck me!"

"Really? I'm sure as hell gonna find out then," he said, flattered. He watched mesmerized as she wrapped her sexy lips around him, taking it in until more than two-thirds disappeared inside, feeling snug, warm and moist. He could feel her tongue stirring within, painting up and down his shaft before running circles around the tip.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

He held on to her head of tinted hair as it bopped up and down. He felt her hand cupping his scrotum and fingers poking about his anus. The sensations all blended into one: an all consuming mind blowing pleasure that made him want to pump his fists and shout for joy.

"Whoa, whoa!" he said, after five minutes. "This is very good but I want more." He motioned for her to get up. From where he sat, he pounced upon her breasts, grabbing and squeezing their softness, thrilled beyond words. Quickly he made her remove the T-shirt.

The black half cup just about contained her overwhelming hugeness. Almost ripping it off in his haste, he reveled at the task of thoroughly licking her exposed mammary while undoing her jeans. He had probably never undress any woman quite as fast.

Her barely-there G-string was quickly removed. He stared right where he intended to penetrate, amazed to see the neatly trimmed pubic hair. His erection was not going to last forever and he meant to really enjoy this voluptuous Malay slut before it quit on him.

He led the naked girl over to the corner of the carpeted room. There he made her lie down, using her folded jeans as a pillow. Eyes not leaving her honey brown body, he removed his pants.

"Is it true Malay girls are good fucks?" he asked, kneeling between her bent knees. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" she said in a sexy whisper, smiling.

The question of using a condom only crossed his mind for a split second. "Oooh!" the girl said as he sank into her. Within two minutes of his slow pumping, she was moaning. And she was loud!

"OH GOD, OOH, AAH!"

"Hey, you trying to let the whole world know what we're doing?"

"No lah, just very excited what. You can really fuck!"

"Ha! Now you know..."

The banging on the door started suddenly. It was accompanied by faint voices shouting his name. The girl, upon hearing this, just as abruptly changed her tune.

"Please, please, don't! OH, LET ME GO, PLEASE, HELP!" she shouted. Yet she did not struggle, merely smiled at his confusion.

to be cont

[latebloomer]

"What the hell?" His people knew better than to disturb him unnecessarily, and even then, they knew they should call him on the phone first. Yet one of the voices sounded extremely familiar. Suddenly it dawned upon him: The assistant store manager who was on duty that night was outside!

"Shit, shit, shit!" he mumbled as he struggled to get off her. "HELP, PLEASE!" she got even louder, but she held on to him, grabbing his arms and wrapping her legs around him, making it difficult for him to get up.

He heard the click of a key in the lock and then there were people shouting and pushing into the room. The girl started crying and struggling on cue. He was pulled off of her by two men. Turning, he recognized Joe, his capable assistant, a hefty. cheerful fellow, but he had a disgusted look on his face. Someone was trying to shield the girl with a jacket while she dressed. Another retrieved his clothes and stuffed them roughly into his arms.

Numb, stunned and speechless, he put on his clothes mechanically, aware of the many pairs of eyes on him. Faces faded in and out, but the only one that mattered kept to one corner of the crowded room, talking on the phone.

Over the cacophony of voices all talking at once, he was surprised that his ears could pick out the one belonging to the assistant manager.

"Yes, yes, of course," he was saying. "Definitely. He did serve the company for more than ten years. But this thing is much too serious! Yes sir, the police. They are on their way. I'll report to you again later."

As he listened, he slowly noticed the presence of someone with the Malay girl, someone not quite unfamiliar although he could not place him. A young boy, a tall Chinese, dressed in a simple T-shirt and over-sized jeans. He bent his head to talk to the girl, the spiky hair on his head appearing like an angry porcupine.

"Look, I am very disappointed with you." The assistant manager was suddenly right in front of him, his eyes stern and cold, a sheen of sweat over his forehead, his face appearing tight and smooth, as if he wore a mask.

"I spoke to the boss. Woke him up. Luckily he hadn't gone back to India yet. He says we should leave it for the police." He rattled off the words, not seeming to care if he was heard or not. "You understand I hope," he added, looking away.

"Yes, I understand," he answered stiffly,"But how did you know?"

to be cont

[latebloomer]

The man turned back. "You mean about you bringing the girl to your room? Well, her boyfriend complained to us. Said they came shopping together, then he lost her in the clothings department. I checked with Yeoh who admitted bringing her to your office."

Suddenly he knew where he had seen the boy. And he knew he had been thoroughly screwed.

He had personally caught the soft-spoken boy with a couple of unpaid DVDs stuffed deep into his backpack about a week ago. In his office, the boy had begged to be let off, claiming it was the first time he had tried shoplifting and only because his girlfriend had dared him. Then he offered to pay for the DVDs, pulling a few fifties from his wallet. He said his parents were doctors and he could not afford to let them know about this. They were sending him overseas to study at the end of the year, and this could really mess it all up. By this time he was crying uncontrollably.

He was tempted to let the boy go. He was quite convinced, his experience telling him that the story was genuine. The crying, however, irritated him. Big deal, having doctors for parents, he thought, angry and disgusted suddenly. He had then insulted the boy, calling him a pampered sissy, enjoyed watching more tears flowed. In the end, he had called the police directly, not even bothering to inform the parents first, as he was supposed to do in such cases. Before he left the office, handcuffed and led by the police officer, the boy had given him a long cold look.

As he turned to look at the young couple, he heard a commotion outside and knew that the police had arrived. The boy was looking back at him, an enigmatic smile on his face. The girl noticed the glance and looked over too. As the security manager glared, both boy and girl raised their right hands and gave him the finger.

The End