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I Drove All Night (FF rom? nudity)

Army of One · 697

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Offline Army of One

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on: June 22, 2018, 04:39:57 PM
Okay, I might as well give a little background here. So, this all started (and no, I'm not casting blame on anything except my own brain here, which seems to have a mind of its own, excuse the pun) with Katiebee's thread on how she's reading romantic fiction. That was followed by a certain song playing continuously in my mind (I'll let you guess what it is; there are enough clues in the story for you to figure it out). So I just went, "Fuck it!" and did what my wife tried to do some time ago: take a song, and write a story based on it.

Now, I'm trying to concentrate more on the romantic aspects of the story than the "Insert Tab A into Slot B" bits. This allows me to actually elaborate more on the emotional side of things than just the mere physical. That said, there is still a little sex, just not as much as would normally be in my stories.

Despite the advantage I stated above, there is still one major downfall: I'm a male erotic fiction writer trying to write a lesbian romance story (of sorts). There is a lot of opportunity for me to fuck this up (which I most likely will, seeing as I wrote this in one night).

As far as the author is aware, this story is fictional. Any relation to any real-life events is entirely coincidental.

So, enjoy. And by the way, I'm dedicating this story to Katiebee, for obvious reasons.


I had been behind the wheel of this BRZ for a good five hours at this point, Roy Orbison on repeat the entire night. One goal was in mind, and her name was Scarlet (my goal, not the car; her name was Beautiful Bitch). The road had been empty, and if I didn't find a gas station soon, so would be Beautiful Bitch. By the way, I'm Elise, and depending on how you look at this, I'm either in love, or just plain crazy.

Let me fill you in a little: I met Scarlet at a party a few months ago. She was nice, her long, flowing brown hair seemed like a vertical brown ocean on her head (which, now that I think about it, eww! that is a bad analogy) every time she moved it, and her blue eyes were like mysterious pools you find in caves in stories, the ones that glimmer even when there is no obvious source of light. I had a raven-coloured pixie cut, green eyes (and not of the jealousy kind, although I did envy Scarlet's outgoing nature), and a shyness that threatened to make me more obvious. I tried hanging out in the shadows, hoping I could wallflower the party. But no, fate had plans for me, and it made them obvious when she looked at me. I swear you could see the electricity spark between her and me.

I thought "Oh shit!" when she decided to leave the group she was with and started walking over to me. As I said, I try not to get noticed, so I panic when I do, because I never know how to socialise, and just come about as a big dorky mess. Once she was standing next to me, she said, "Hi." She sounded like someone had rung a small gold bell, with a lilt that started ringing my bells too, and I just about melted on the spot there. "H-Hi," I managed to choke out.

"What are you doing over?"

"I-I don't do crowds much."

"Lucky you." Wow, ummm, did I just get complimented for my shyness? "Sometimes people are just dull. Like that lot over there." And she pointed back over to the group from which shehad just come. "Some of them don't know what a good time is. Heck, I think most of them only have any sort of fun when they come to the pub." I should not have been surprised to hear her say that; I knew about them, bankers and realtors all of them. But, y'know, hindsight.

"So what would you call fun?"

"Open air, no-one for miles, just you and your thoughts, and maybe a special someone." Yep, that one was also unexpected to me; hindsight still tells me I was right to not expect it. She then turned her focus back to me. "So what would you call fun?"

"I dunno. A book?"

"Curled up on the lounge underneath a warm blanket, reading? Sounds like the best weekend ever." If there was any sarcasm in her voice (hindsight again: there wasn't), I didn't hear it.

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure. No people to bore you to death with their tales of bad clients and turf laying." I chuckled at that. "You've definitely been the most interesting person here...actually, the only interesting person here. What's your name?"

"Elise."

"A cute name for a cute girl. I'm Scarlet."

"Thanks. And you're pretty good looking yourself." I know she appreciated the compliment, even if she didn't openly acknowledge it.

"Would you like to come outside for a bit, get away from all this?" She indicated around the room.

We did in fact step outside and lean against the wall of the pub, talking endlessly about I can't remember what. What I do remember is that I had never felt so open with anyone, and she made me feel like I could be with her. It was exhilarating and...odd. Good odd, not "be careful, she may expose your secrets to the world" odd. At the end of the night, she gave me her digits, asked me to call her, then gave me a peck on the cheek. I remember watching her as she left, and I knew I was blushing so much you could name a paint shade after my reddened face.
**********
Okay, so, back to me and Beautiful Bitch. We had just found a gas station, and I had finally got her to the pump when she finally cut out. (Fate must be winning whatever game of poker it's playing at the moment, because I have been way too lucky on this trip.) I gave her her much-needed drink, and paid the old guy behind the counter the $60 for it. I then got back in the car, and kept going. This was a long trip, and I had miles to go before I slept.
**********
So, to come back to Scarlet and I, I did end up calling her the next morning, because my heart told me to, and asked her out for coffee. She said yes, but only if we could take our coffees for a stroll to a park she wanted to go to. "Sure," I said. And that's how I ended up walking a block and a half between a cafe and a park with a cup of hot coffee and a beautiful woman next to me who kept me distracted from the fact that I was walking a block and a half between a cafe and a park with a cup of hot coffee. We found ourselves a spot and took a seat, and started talking like we had never really finished our conversation from the previous night.

Then, I did what was probably the most dorky thing I had ever done. "Ummm, can I kiss you, Scarlet?" Now, just so you know, I make no secret that I'm a lesbian, but that I've never been kissed (let alone not had a girlfriend, or even that I was a virgin) up until this point was something I kept to myself. But, today, I decided to kind of say it. "Because, I've never been kissed, and I kinda like you, and—"

"Of course you can," she interrupted me before I had a chance to make a complete dork of myself. "I was wondering if you were ever going to." I was surprised. She wanted me to kiss her?

That thought lasted for about three tenths of a second, before I leaned in and just planted one on her lips. It was awkward, I was embarassed enough to die, and she just took me by the chin and kissed me with the tenderest kiss, and everything else just turned to dust.
**********
Needless to say, at that point, I was proud to say I had a girlfriend. We felt like the only two pieces of our own puzzle, coming together finally and fitting perfectly. Every time we were together, it was like something inside me had come alive, and I just smiled from ear to ear. Scarlet seemed the same way too, as her beautiful face seemed to shine and become even more beautiful.

We spent quite a lot of time together, going to movies, plays, she even took me to a gallery opening once. (How she could afford all this, I didn't really figure out, until I saw one of the posters for a play we didn't go see, which had her as the writer.) But the most unexpected thing waswhen she asked me to go camping with her.

Now, I'm not an outdoorsy person. As I said at the start, my idea of fun is staying at home and reading. So this was a big step out of my comfort zone; I was just glad I was doing it with someone I loved.

I went out and got myself a sleeping bag, even though I didn't think if I needed one or not, and a pack. I filled it with stuff I thought I needed: thick socks, sturdy shorts and shirts, sunscreen, the barest minimum of toiletries, and a change of underwear or two, and the sleeping bag. When Scarlet came to collect me, she was surprised by how prepared I was, or more precisely, overprepared. She took my pack, and pulled out the sleeping bag ("We're sleeping on an air mattress I have." That was a relief), and half my clothes, leaving me with one day's worth of change clothes, which was unusual seeing as we were going to be camping for three. "Perfect," she said. "Now, let's go."

We got to a section of bush that no-one seemed to come to, with a small stone precipice about a foot off the ground. "So this is where we're camping?" I asked, quite stupidly.

"Yep," Scarlet answered. "My parents used to take me here when I was younger. Out of the way, so no-one can surprise us, and everything is still within sight." She grabbed the tent, and went up to the precipice. "We'll set up the tent here."

"But that's just rock, isn't it?"

"Not really. There's a nice flat piece of grass here we can pitch the tent." So, the precipice became our tent's home for three days.

Once we had it set up, I got about to setting up the rest of the camp, or was about to when Scarlet told me to not worry about it. "Come with me first," she said, and she took me by the arm through the trees, up a long but not very steep path, to the top of a cliff. It was a beautiful sight: the tops of the trees, and in one direction we could see our campsite (or at least her car and the tent). I sat down, a little exhausted from the hike, and just willing to enjoy the view. Scarlet, on the other hand, had a different idea, and immediately took of her clothes, so she stood naked as the day on the cliff. She had quite a nice body, 5-foot-7, 32C-22-31, with alabaster skin and a trimmed brunette bush. Me, on the other hand, I'm a bit shorter at 5-foot-4, 31B-21-30, mine's a little flesh-toned, and I keep my pubic area well-shaved (up until now, why always eluded me). I know I'm smaller up top, not noticeably so, but enough that I sometimes feel a little self-conscious.

Scarlet turned to me after she had done a little sunworshipping. "Your turn," she insisted, and helped me up. I was tentative. As I took off each piece, even with Scarlet helping me out of things, I was very much inclined to cover back up as much as possible with my arms, and when I had stripped off I just sat back down and balled myself up. Scarlet sat back down and asked me, "What's wrong?"

"I don't like my body. It's all a mess of bits and none of it seems to fit and—ugh!" I just slammed my fists into the ground.

Again, Scarlet took my face in her hand. "You have a beautiful body, and I love it, just like I love you. It's not a mess of bits, it's perfect." I felt relaxed enough after that speech that she didn't have to push down too hard to get my legs to straighten out. We then kissed each other until we felt the first drops of the rain we didn't see coming, at which point we squealed, grabbed our clothes, and ran down the path again to our camp, and hid in our tent. Once we got inside, we just spontaneously burst out laughing, collapsing into each other, then, once we regained our composure again, we kissed each other again.

I reached out and touched one of Scarlet's breasts, rubbing it delicately. She was soft, and nice, and I just wanted to keep touching them forever, but Scarlet took my hand shortly after and asked, "We haven't got the air bed in yet." Shit! I ran out naked into the rain to the car and grabbed the mattress, then ran straight back. Now, Scarlet's air bed was not one of those where you needed a foot pump to blow it up, thank goodness, otherwise we would've been there all day. Instead, hers was one of those with an inbuilt electric pump, so it inflated fairly quickly when you turned it on. When it was fully blown up, we laid down on it, and started kissing each other again.

It was Scarlet who broke the kiss, and she moved herself down the mattress a bit and started kissing my breasts. I tingled a bit when she did so (remember, I was still a virgin at this point, so all this sexual stuff was new to me), especially when she rolled her tongue around my nipples. She then continued going down my body, until she reached my pussy, which she proceeded to kiss and tongue as well.

Then I felt it. My first full-on orgasm that hadn't been produced by my own fingers.

Scarlet came back up and kissed me again as I started to come back from what I could only describe as an out-of-body experience. "So," I asked, "how do I taste?" We giggled for a little bit before she answered, "Really nice, actually." We then kissed again.

During those three days, I learnt a lot about her body and mine. I did get to eat her out (she was very delicious), and we got to figure out what made us moan a bit more (apparently she likes having fingers tracing around her thighs, while I'm into the walking fingers along your back). So I was sad when we had to return to civilisation; I seriously wanted to stay thre for the rest of my life with her, eschew the clothed life and live natural and free. But work beckoned us both.
**********
It was about a week after our camping trip when I got a call from her, saying she needed to head back to her family's place for a bit. Apparently, her mother had passed away, so she needed to go back and deal with the funeral arrangements. We kept in touch every day, telling each other how much we loved each other, and she would tell me how things were going. On one of these phone calls, she told me that her mum was the first person she came out to, and that she had been supportive of her ever since, and that if she were alive, she would tell her how great a girl I was.

That's when I had the idea. I went to one of the rental car places nearby, and asked for a good car for a couple of days. Thy showed me the silver BRZ, and I very much fell in love with it. (Under my breath, I called it a...well, you can probably guess what I called her.) So I paid for the two days, and left immediately.
**********
So that brings the story up to here. I'm 45 minutes away from Scarlet's motel room, after having spent seven hours on the road, with the same song on repeat the entire trip.

Those 45 minutes pass quickly, and I am now pared outside her room, CD still blaring the same damn song. She appears at the door, and leans on the frame. I have cracked the window so she can hear what's playing, and it says everything about what I've just done. She smiles, I get out of the car, and then, like some dance choreographed by fate, the refrain of the song kicks in, and I just run up to her and kiss her. I swear this looks like a scene from a well-shot film.

Scarlet breaks the kiss, and says what I want to hear: "I'm glad you came."
**********
To cut a long story short, I was introduced posthumously to her mother. I know a funeral is the worst place to bring in a new partner, especially when the person you want to introduce them to happens to be the one the funeral is for, but she wanted me to see her.

I'm still with Scarlet today. She has become the best thing in my life, and I in hers. We're saving up to buy a place in the bush somewhere, where we can live naturally and free, or at least nakedly, and can just enjoy each other. I don't think there's any place where we can do that...
« Last Edit: June 22, 2018, 04:51:23 PM by Army of One »

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psiberzerker

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Reply #1 on: June 22, 2018, 05:30:07 PM
I'm a male erotic fiction writer trying to write a lesbian romance story (of sorts).

Well, thanks for pointing this out.  I wish more authors did.  Unfortunately, there is a bit of a learning curve here, unless you know some lesbians you can run some rough drafts past.

I have to say, you mentioned her name, Elise.  Once.  No wait [Control F] twice.  You called her "Beautiful Bitch" repeatedly.  (4 times, twice as often.)

This isn't very romantic.  It comes of more like the way a stalker depersonalizes his, or her victim.  If this were a gay story, and one called the other "Douche Dick," it would come off just about as loving, and intimate.

You missed a long stretch of dialog, where they both get to know each other, and through introduction, the reader gets to know them as people.  Individuals, what makes them distinctive other than eye color.  Having beautiful eyes is great, but they opened up to each other, when they're otherwise both written as shy introverts.

That conversation, from a writer's standpoint, is a great opportunity for the Author.  Especially in Gay and Lesbian relationships, when we read a straight romance, our "Sides" are pretty much chosen for us.  When the couple is same sex, the more personality you put into the individuals, the more we have to focus on them, and the more choice we have to pick a character.

Which one we identify with and which one we can imagine ourselves falling in love with.  No one expects you to write out the whole hours of conversation, but you could also flash back to it.  "Something she said about..."  If you dial back the direct sexual action, then you have to dial up a different payoff.  Action, conflict/resolution, or dialog/characterization.

Otherwise, they come off as cardboard cutouts, with pretty eyes.




Offline Army of One

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Reply #2 on: June 22, 2018, 11:55:42 PM
I have to say, you mentioned her name, Elise.  Once.  No wait [Control F] twice.  You called her "Beautiful Bitch" repeatedly.  (4 times, twice as often.)

This isn't very romantic.  It comes of more like the way a stalker depersonalizes his, or her victim.  If this were a gay story, and one called the other "Douche Dick," it would come off just about as loving, and intimate.

"Beautiful Bitch" is the name of the car, not her "pet name" or anything like that. That said, yes, giving the car a name when it served no narrative purpose is a bit superfluous.

You missed a long stretch of dialog, where they both get to know each other, and through introduction, the reader gets to know them as people.  Individuals, what makes them distinctive other than eye color.  Having beautiful eyes is great, but they opened up to each other, when they're otherwise both written as shy introverts.

That conversation, from a writer's standpoint, is a great opportunity for the Author.  Especially in Gay and Lesbian relationships, when we read a straight romance, our "Sides" are pretty much chosen for us.  When the couple is same sex, the more personality you put into the individuals, the more we have to focus on them, and the more choice we have to pick a character.

Which one we identify with and which one we can imagine ourselves falling in love with.  No one expects you to write out the whole hours of conversation, but you could also flash back to it.  "Something she said about..."  If you dial back the direct sexual action, then you have to dial up a different payoff.  Action, conflict/resolution, or dialog/characterization.

Otherwise, they come off as cardboard cutouts, with pretty eyes.

The fact that I have written both as shy introverts is a greater failing on by part. Scarlet is the more outgoing of the two, but she does find herself in situations where the people she is with are very (I hope this is the word) cookie-cutter. Think of the song "Little Boxes", and you'll see what I mean.

But yes, my character development was terrible, to say the least; I had more of an idea in my head about who they were as people, but that didn't make it to paper. My fault for rushing this.
« Last Edit: June 22, 2018, 11:58:58 PM by Army of One »

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psiberzerker

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Reply #3 on: June 23, 2018, 03:45:34 PM
"Beautiful Bitch" is the name of the car,

Oh.  That wasn't clear.  MM.