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+--- Thread: Tales by the pond (/showthread.php?tid=1518)
Tales by the pond - GuyByThePond - 01-31-2017
Setting up the stage
"What is this place ?"
It's a small globe, a bit like Hugh Jackman's ship in "The fountain" (Darren Aronofski, 2006).
It's suspended in a violet nowhere by two HUGE Stone arches. One is leading to the back of a giant screen. The other is shrouded.
I look at the girl. Her name's Gaerlind.
I was writing, I was happy, I was at peace, under the giant baobab standing in the middle of the globe.
Willy told me I should come back, and I did.
The girl's pretty, like most of the girls that come from the screen world.
"It's my Laputa (Hayao Miyazaki, 1986). I carved it for myself, somewhere between the Mnf world and the back of my head. If you've seen "Being John Malkovich" (Spike Jonze, 1999), you could say it's the 7,5 th floor."
I take a look around. The pond's there. It's a hot spring. The stones around make for a kind of natural bath, a onsen, like in the japanese Alps.
My wiccan queen and my Venezuelan princess are relaxing in it, quietly chatting in all their naked glory.
Cindra is writing some fantasy stuff she may let me read this time. She's sitting under one of the cherry trees, on a carpet of flowers. Everybody should visit Japan in spring.
There is the wooden bridge over the pond. I like its shape. Certain nights its reflection in the water spouses the curves of the moon.
It also makes me think of the Shoei Imamura movie, "warm water under a red bridge" (2001). It's a masterpiece, a blend of eroticism, fun, and drama, like some of the best tales you can find in here.
MaryJane is on the bridge, taking pictures. Maybe she'll manage to catch the love there is in the kiss MaiLyn and Emma Peel are exchanging. Or the energy Selyann is putting in her Kiss Fu katas.
"Who are all these people ?"
"Threads. Stories I care deeply for. You see, I'm this successful guy. 40, exec in one of France's biggest company. 6 figures wage. A smart, beautiful wife. A 6 years old kid full of life. Owner of his apartment in Paris. This is a good life, the life I was expected to have. But is this the life I really wanted ? Yes... and no. I've got this craving. I love storytelling. And all these guys ? Inspiration. Everyone's a tale, and all tales are worth to be told. So I listened to them, I played with them... And with a bit of luck and glee, it made a good story"
"You know, I read your gibberish (http://www.mnfclub.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=991). Why don't you write it there ?"
"Because this was a very different chapter. I thought it was about... I don't know... Sex, probably, in the beginning...then love, after the C&O night... This game is deceiving, you know ? We're actors, we invoke powerful feelings when we play our roles. I got hooked by the neurotransmitter rush the big L situation could kick in. And it backfired. So I stopped. I started a psychotherapy. Now, I'm beginning to understand what's my longing, this dead part I need to revive. I'm not cured, because I want to come back. Because there is this romance . But I know what to do. And I do it here, in this garden, looking at my friends playing, playing with them or others, weaving all these threads in a fine, colorful tapestry. It makes sense. It heartens me... and them, hopefully."
I take another look. Frankie Lee, Boobenna and p0mmy are nowhere to be seen. I guess they made an incursion together in the MnF world, leaving a trail of lust and bodily fluids.
Sabrianna, Wismera and Chichouss, my lusty French friends, are speaking and laughing, sharing impressions of the last "party" they attended, the last guy they put under their spell.
I offer a pasteis de nata to the girl. Rick sent them to me.
"It's very good !"
"Yeah, that's what there is in here for you. Tasty things. Pleasures of the flesh. Crafted in words of a language that's not my native. It’s also a place of delusions. An elvish girl from air and water ascent like you may like that”
"You spoke of romance..."
"A worthy tale. It's about a swedish girl called Emma"
"Where is she ?"
"I dunno. She killed her avatar. But that doesn't matter. She's been IanParis' lifeline. Maybe we manage to find each other in the end"
"Don't listen to this smooth talker too much. Don’t make Gwendyyd’s mistake". It's Lorenna. I liked to call her sensei.
"He's speaking of romance, he quotes Shakespeare at times, but I know what lurks in the darker parts of his mind. It's not the most savory thing a girl could live. So, be cautious. This guy should be handled like dynamite on a short fuse".
What could I say ? What SHOULD I say ?
I don't care. I loved them. I think I still do.
Ice & fire, fire & ice. Here, it doesn't matter. It's lukewarm. It's peaceful.
Come, and (hopefully) have fun.
RE: Tales by the pond - Cath - 01-31-2017
Haha! A new story, well, I shouldn't laugh, should I?
RE: Tales by the pond - GuyByThePond - 01-31-2017
(01-31-2017, 07:36 PM)Cath Wrote: Haha! A new story, well, I shouldn't laugh, should I?
New stories, cath, new stories.
It's taleS.
;-) Still wrecking havoc in the threads, are you ?
RE: Tales by the pond - GuyByThePond - 02-01-2017
A romance - episode 1: antipasto
"What should I say ?" I wonder.
I'm in Copenhagen, about to leave the airport transition zone. Out there, Emma's waiting... I hope. She made me come here. We wanted to see each other. Hardest decision in my life. I thought of De Niro in heat (Michael Mann, 1995).
Then I see her. I knew I'd think she is beautiful. Still, it's a shock. Her face is a combination of mature features and teeny mischief. She's put just the right amount of make up, discreet yet sexy. Her hair is put up like THAT time. Her black coat hides her body, yet I can guess at sweet curves, and her high heeled boots make me think she's dressed with care.
Our eyes are locked. Hers are deep ponds I want to swim in. She smiles shyly. I wave my hand awkwardly.
Under the gray Georges Rech coach, I've put my best suit, the anthracite Moschino one, with a light pink shirt. My black frattelli rossetti are mirror polished. My hair is the fuss it's always.
You never have a second chance to make a first good impression.
"Hi Emma"
"Hi Ian"
It's a strange feeling. I'm 40, yet I'm like a teenager wondering how to rob a kiss at the nicest girl in school.
"I think there is a dozen butterflies in my stomach, dear Swedish girl".
Her smile broadens.
"I feel like a mouse who wants to hide in its hole. I did not expect such a big cat !"
We laugh. I take her hands in mine. They're soft, yet strong.
"Shall I invite you someplace for lunch ?"
"My dear french gentleman, it'll be my pleasure to make you discover my hang outs in Copenhagen".
Some time later, we're in some hype cantina, sharing beers while waiting for our turn to sit. We've spoken of us: who we are, what we do, what we like. The words flow nicely, in an engrossing conversation, with some laughs put over.
"You know, Ian, I think I've not always fell for the right man, but you're really one of a kind"
"Here is flattering Emma again" I say smiling "but, true, even if it's the first time we really talk together, I feel like being with an old friend I deeply care for".
She flashes a mischievous grin. "Maybe you'll have the opportunity to show me just how 'deep' is your caring"
I nearly spit my beer out.
"That's pretty straightforward for my french, romantic, and respectful manners, dear, but..."
Then it happens. I smooch her lips. Her eyes widen, then narrow.
"You can do better" she says.
This time, I brush her full lips with mine.
"Again" she whispers.
I put my mouth on hers. Then my tongue starts reaching out. She opens her lips slowly. It's a first kiss. Not passionate, yet long, tender and full of promises...
"hrmm".
The bartender tells us we can eat now. We smile at each other and go to our table...
Emma's really putting me under her spell while we're eating. She's been wearing a nice, simple yet pretty, black dress under her coat. Her shoulders and cleavage are not exactly naked because it's winter, but the white shirt underneath the dress molds her shapes nicely, and the little black stockings I've been able to glimpse between the top of the knee high boots and the bottom of the dress feels like the right kind of see through. Her lips are full, rehearsed by a subtle shade of red. I want to kiss the pink the cold (or something else ?) put on her cheeks. But the best feature is her eyes. At times, they're like stargazing at a deep corner of her mind, at others they sparkle with mischief, fondness, curiosity, even desire maybe.
I love this soul I found in a place I did not expect. She helped me realize I had lost the ability to feel, to care, and now it's coming back, like a severed limb growing again. I must confess another thing feels like a tree in spring at the hints she lays on the trail of our conversation.
"You know, Ian, my character in the game has become something of an anal queen ! You really made me want to explore this fantasy"
"Yeah, that's a thing I love in the game, in RPG in general. It's a giant 'what if' simulator. For instance, Lorenna made me try very muddy sidetracks I did not know I had in me"
(I'm french, speaking of sex while eating is something that comes naturally)
"Really ? I'm curious. Maybe a little jealous" she flashes her teeth
"She's in this sub/dom thing, her being on the VERY sub side. I thought it's not my thing, because it meant ties and whips to me, and I have this #respect women# imperative deeply ingrained in me, but as I was very intrigued by the stories she told me, I tried once a pure text RP experience with her. She put me in a situation very very far from my fantasies, and made me do her things I'd hate a guy to do. But I understood, I felt (the warm place again !), how there could be deep love and respect in the trust there is between dom & sub when they're playing their game, even the nastiest one. Maybe your swissdom story was something akin to that ?"
She laughs "Not very smart of you to speak of another girl like this, but yeah, I understand what you mean"
"Emma. I don't want to hide things to you. I want to share. I want to tell my stories. I love to make you wet between the legs. Maybe I'm like the actor on stage who hears somebody in the audience laughing, crying, screaming at his performance. And the actor craves for that. And the somebody is you. And for this I'm grateful and I love you".
There. I said it. The big L word. And it came easily.
"Ian ! I'm... I'm speechless... I'm not sure it's the most beautiful way I've been told 'I love you', but... But you make me feel so... unique"
"Because you are, dear Emma, because you are"
Our lunch is finished.
"Do you want to come at my place ?" she says with a touch of tremors in her voice.
We don't drink coffee. I pay the bill. We move. We're silent. She slides her hand in mine on the way back. I squeeze it. It's hot, soft and strong.
RE: Tales by the pond - Willy_for_Boobies - 02-01-2017
Wonderful written i liked to read it ;-))
.. a niiice teaser .. making me want to read more ;-))
RE: Tales by the pond - GuyByThePond - 02-01-2017
(02-01-2017, 05:46 PM)Willy_for_Boobies Wrote: Wonderful written i liked to read it ;-))
.. a niiice teaser .. making me want to read more ;-))
Thank you Willy.
Always a pleasure to have some feedback, all the more it's a positive one
RE: Tales by the pond - GuyByThePond - 02-02-2017
A romance - Episode 2: primo
"You know, Ian, many times I imagined our arrival in here, full of lust, both of us jumping at each other like sex crazed animals"
"I know. Me too"
We're at Emma’s place. We've put off our coats, our shoes. She's offered me a drink I've gladly welcome (is her throat as parched as mine ?). I've met her dog she's put in another room. Now we're sitting on the sofa, side by side.
She laughs "it's not so simple, is it ?"
"You know I'm a bit on the complicated side, Emma, but.."
I cup her face in my hands. Gently, I put my lips on hers. Immediately, her tongue meets mine, her mouth opens to welcome my kiss. Our hands move to our respective heads, caressing our respective hair, deadlocking us in a deep deep kiss. Our breathing is heavy, like if this kiss was more important, more vital than filling our lungs with air.
It lasts forever. When one of us gives the slightest hint he would leave, the other deepens his kiss, grabs the head of his lover with more passion.
Now we're looking at each other, panting, smiling, tears of joy at the corners of our eyes. We can't stop looking at each other.
"I want to see you naked, love !"
"So do I, mister french lover !"
We speak with glee. We feel the little kind of magic flooding Emma's place. Our hands start to dance at each other's clothes. While I pull off my jacket, she starts unbuttoning my shirt, but as soon as my jacket's lying on the floor, I pull her arms up to ease her out of her dress, but it won't work as she’s still sat, so she pushes back at me and starts unmaking my belt while I try pulling off my pants...
Soon, we're both disheveled hobos, half naked half clothed. We stop and explode in a laughter.
"Look at us. 2 teenagers trying to get naked for their first time !" I say.
"True. We're better than that" She stands up, turning her back at me, and she makes the dress glide down, sticking out her butt in the move, flashing her panty at me. I remove my unbuttoned shirt while looking. Now, she’s in black see through pantyhoses, the white shirt making her a tiny skirt.
"You look damn sexy Emma"
She laughs. One, two, three buttons of her get off. Her full bosom heave in a black bra with lace.
She sits astride me. Her head is level with mine. We kiss. Hungrily. My hands are on each side of her basin. Her arms are around my neck... Soon She’s pushing my face between her boobs. I kiss them on the top, naked part.
"You like them Ian ?"
"Them, and all other parts"
I'm bulging. I finish unbuttoning her shirt, removing it, while she rummages through my hair, stealing kisses at one another. Then I put my hands on her tits. She shudders and twitches on my lap. I can feel the heat of her pussy through the panties. She can feel the nice bulge of my cock in my pants.
"Oh, Ian. Fondle my tits. Kiss my boobs. Make them hard"
I caress her chest. I eat her ivory mounds. I nab at her erect nipples. Then we kiss ravenously. Then it's her turn to play with my bare chest, with her hands, with her mouth. Her pussy is radiating heat. My cock is rock hard, nearly hurting in the boxer.
"Emma. I want you. Badly".
She stands while I remain sat on the sofa. I make the pantyhoses glide down. I'm facing the black laced twin of her bra. I put a kiss on the lower part of her belly. My hands fly at her butt, grab it. I kiss her crotch with the nice, firm yet soft weight of her ass in my hands. I start sliding her panty down, inch by inch, kissing the skin that appears. Her hands are on my head, playing with my hair, my ears, making me fill my nostrils of her musked scent.
I'm kissing her venus mound, I'm discovering the hair of her pussy, and I love it.
I lay on the sofa. She sits her pussy on my face, each leg apart it. She’s drenched. I start licking, inserting my tongue between her lower lips. She puts a hand on the sofa arm. With the other, she plays with her clit, she opens her labia so the juices of her pussy drip on my face while I'm eating her.
"Fuck Ian... Fuck... Don't stop... Eat me... Fuck... It's good... I want it... Fuck... I've never been eaten like that... Fuck !"
She pours juices all over my face. Her hand can't stop playing with her clit. Soon she feels the orgasm building up.
"Ian... Oh, yeah, go on... Lick my pussy... Make me wet... Oh... That's good. That's good to feel your tongue... Make me cum lover... Make me cum with this big tongue of yours... I'm so drenched... It's so good... I think I'm going to squirt on your face... FUCK ! IAN ! YES ! I'm cumming ! I'm cumming all over your faaaaaace !"
She’s playing with her clit like crazy. She feels it so hard between her fingers. She feels her pussy twitch, and shudder, and twitch again as the orgasm shakes her... She squirts. A lot. On my face. My tongue does not stop one time. I want to devour her.
"Mmmh, Emma. I love your pussy. I love how it smells. How it's wet. And I think my dick is oozing precum just because of that"
RE: Tales by the pond - Mail - 02-02-2017
sacré Ian
te revoila repartis pour des nouvelles aventureshahah comme tu vois moi je fais pas l'effort de parler en anglais,je pourrais si j'en avais envie
tu sais bien que je parle aussi bien qu'une vache espagnoleen tout cas si ça t'aide alors ça me va
bon maintenant je m'adresse aux lecteurs de Ian:
sans dec il est pas relou avec ses mots sortis du cul a Bernard Pivot la!?!
1hhhhhhhh pour lire ton premier post!!
il va me falloir une semaine pour tout captée!pi encore j'ai l'impression qu'il y avait pas beaucoup de métaphores et autre 85ème degré de lecture!
arf jt'aime bien quand même vieille branche et tes histoires sont bien écrites faut bien l'avouer
*prends un dolipranne et attaque la 2eme partie*
RE: Tales by the pond - Cath - 02-02-2017
(02-02-2017, 05:00 PM)Mail Wrote: sacré Ian
hahah comme tu vois moi je fais pas l'effort de parler en anglais,je pourrais si j'en avais envie
en tout cas si ça t'aide alors ça me va
bon maintenant je m'adresse aux lecteurs de Ian:
sans dec il est pas relou avec ses mots sortis du cul a Bernard Pivot la!?!
1hhhhhhhh pour lire ton premier post!!
il va me falloir une semaine pour tout captée!pi encore j'ai l'impression qu'il y avait pas beaucoup de métaphores et autre 85ème degré de lecture!
arf jt'aime bien quand même vieille branche et tes histoires sont bien écrites faut bien l'avouer
*prends un dolipranne et attaque la 2eme partie*
Translation, more or less accurate:
Holy shit, Ivan. Now you're going back for new adventures
Haha as you can see, I'm not doing the effort to write in English, I could if i wanted to. [censored because Cath wanted to even tho it isn't such a big deal]
Anyway, if that helps you, I'm ok with that.
Now, I'm addressing myself to Ivan's lectors:
No shit, isn't he a weirdo with his words coming out of Bernard Pivot's ass? (He's a French journalist and animator of a cultured show)
1 hour to read his first post!
It's going to take me a week to understand everything (Cath: oh boy it is!) and again, I feel like there weren't that much metaphors and other 85th degree of lecture (Cath: it's a figure of speech, usually we say the 2n degree. It means that it's really ambiguous.)
Oh well, I still like you ol' pal and your stories are well made nonetheless
*takes a dolipranne and starts the second part* (medicine against headache)
(Cath: *takes one too because it's hard to stay as close as possible to the original text)
Yo, j'espère que j'ai bien interprété!
RE: Tales by the pond - Mail - 02-02-2017
Translation, more or less accurate:
Holy shit, Ivan. Now you're going back for new adventures
Haha as you can see, I'm not doing the effort to write in English, I could if i wanted to. [censored because Cath wanted to even tho it isn't such a big deal]
Anyway, if that helps you, I'm ok with that.
Now, I'm addressing myself to Ivan's lectors:
No shit, isn't he a weirdo with his words coming out of Bernard Pivot's ass? (He's a French journalist and animator of a cultured show)
1 hour to read his first post!
It's going to take me a week to understand everything (Cath: oh boy it is!) and again, I feel like there weren't that much metaphors and other 85th degree of lecture (Cath: it's a figure of speech, usually we say the 2n degree. It means that it's really ambiguous.)
Oh well, I still like you ol' pal and your stories are well made nonetheless
*takes a dolipranne and starts the second part* (medicine against headache)
(Cath: *takes one too because it's hard to stay as close as possible to the original text)
Yo, j'espère que j'ai bien interprété!
haha yes very good and funny
i answer you in english for your effort.thanks
just one question:its obligatory to speak english or one of Ian's reader translate my post each time?hihi