Old Timey Erotica

Yo!

wait, lets set the mood.

this video is a pre-requisite for submitting names:

this has nothing to do with legolas....just the song.

ok, one taker...who wants to be in it with her?

.....the meat to her potato?

ME.

omg. perfect. hold on.

I WANT THE COWBELL PART. There's gonna be cowbells, yes?

Jane Elizabeth Mont-claire Harolding had always been a curious girl. Even at the age of 23, she still had never experienced the thrill of another woman.

It was a humid day in mid april on the Harolding farm when Jane's Father, Papa, chose to hire a farm hand and his family to help with the sheep and cows the Haroldings raised. The farm hand's name was Esteban, and he brought with him his wife, Maria, and his beautiful daughter, Minerva Esperanza. The girls naturally became the best of friends, since neither had any other young women to talk to on the lonely farm.

One day, Jane was sitting upon a haystack up in the top of the barn watching her Papa and Esteban load the fresh spring lambs into a pen, shirtless. Jane sighed at the sight of Esteban without a shirt, glistening in the sticky heat of spring. A creak caused Jane to spin around and spy Minerva Esperanza just stepping off the ladder that led to the loft of the barn.

Minerva quietly sat next to Jane and said, "My, miss Jane, your papa is mighty handsome for an aged working man." Jane giggled, and touched Minerva's hand with her own. "Yes, he is quite a man. He's a wonderful father, just like your's. Esteban is a very beautiful man as well, Minerva. He always gets his work done faster if not as fast as my papa. He always has a ravenous apetite after a long day's work. There's nothing more stimulating than watching a grown, strong man guzzling a bowl full of stew in two minuets flat."

The girls laughed, and gazed again at their beautiful fathers down below, still herding the lambs into the pen. "Jane," Minerva said softly. "would you untie my apron? Mama tied it so dreadfully tight this mornin' so as it wouldn't fall off during milking of the cows. It's really cutting into my back."

Jane leaned forward, and examined the knot. It was tied with strong hands, and as Jane struggled with the tie, she inhaled and enjoyed the wonderful working-scent of her new companion. With a gentle, well placed tug, the apron slipped off, and jane layed down with her hands behind her head on the hay stack. "there you are my dear. I hope it wasn't too tight."

Jane had closed her eyes as she spoke, but she felt a sudden shift of weight on the haystack next to her, and suddenly, Minerva was leaning very close over Jane's relaxed face. "Oh, no, miss jane. It t'wasn't too tight for my liking. I'm just glad you got if off all right." The girls were silent for a while, gazing deep into each other's eyes, no longer caring about their working, sweating fathers below. "I'm much abliged, miss jane." Minerva whispered.

and, to be erotica, and not porn, i stop there. Next?

Hahaha.

Oh my God, I sound like such a whore! Lol

Omg, I can't breathe. Minerva, you SEDUCTRESS.

i would like to have sex with a woman.

that can be arranged. Who wants to be the woman?

"working-scent" is my new favorite description for anything.

Omg I hope you're making these for real. A thread full of stories about culties fucking each other. This is almost better than that one time we tried to show our titz. I want next!

Ok, i can do two men. I need a woman though. i've a got a story going, i just need one chick.

Nate Parker can ravish me.

I'll be in it!

Ok, i'm gonna do Mirka, Nate, and JT. It'll work. you've had your's Minerva! Just a sec.

I want my next story to have some asskicking.

No, I'm not going to be in a threesome with two men. Just NO!

oh my god that is hilarious Levi!

I want to be in one!

can I play?

Acclaimed Pastry Chef Nathaniel Parker and his sous Chef Vitaly stood in front of the looming New York mansion. Chef Parker and Vitaly balanced the giant wedding cake between them on a wooden slab. The tall cake shivered as Chef Parker reached out with one hand to ring the doorbell of number 1540. The deep DONG of the bell within made the two men swallow hard.

"Damnit, smeared frosting on the bell." Nate muttered. "Leave it! I almost dropped my side with you reaching out to ring the blasted thing the first time." Vitaly sneered. "Shhh! Someone's coming!"

The dark green glass set in the iron door had darkened with movement, and a beautiful Russian woman clad in a fire red silk night gown stood in the entry way. She had a porcalin face with painted red lips, and her hair was a beautiful brown bobbed coufier.

"Vhat is it? I am Mrs. Mirka Helsvenian Hordurova. The cake, is it for me?" Her voice was like Russian thunder striking against an iron bell.

The men trembled, and after an akward silent pause, Chef Parker stammered, "Y-Y-Yes, that's the name. I hope we're not late."

"Not at all. I vas expecting you. Come in, boys."

She led them down a dark hallway full of odd paintings and cluttered with tables piled with candleabras. Mrs. Hordurova's red silk nightgown hung off one shoulder, and her pearl necklace was knoted right abover her navel. The click clack of her crimson stillettos led the men tward the kitchen at the end of the hallway. A single ancient table stood in the center of the grimey checkered tile floor. The cabinets were green with drit and grime, and the single bulb hanging from the ceiling had cob webs connecting to all four walls.

Vitaly gazed around, grimaced, and said, "Must be the maid's day off, eh?" His chuckle slowly died away as he met Mika's steely eyes.

"Where'd you like this cake, then, 'mam?" Chef Parker asked quietly.

"I didn't order any cake." Mirka let her silk nightgown fall to the dusty floor, revealing a black lacey corset and fishnets. "No wun is havink a vedding here today. I ordered two men. For just little old me to devour through the course of the day. You think you two can handle that?"

With a splat, the elaborate wedding cake fell off the now limp cakeboard and smeared all over the checkered floor. Chef Parker licked his lips, and glanced at Vitaly. Vitaly gave a small nod, as if in agreement, and they stepped over the fallen cake in one stride.

Mirka had perched herself on the edge of the ancient table, but as the men approached, she placed a high heeled foot on each of their chests. "Vait. Let me varn you, I don't play nice. Do you really know vhat you are getting into?"

Nathaniel removed his chef's hat, and wrung it in his hands. "Listen lady, I'm known for my pastries, cakes, doughnuts, pies, and frostings. What I'm really famous for, however, they can't review in the Times. You're about to have a first class gormet delight, and it's a double serving."

Vitaly shook with excitement, and Mirka leaning back on the table, laughed a deep Russian laugh. "Alright, boys. Do your vorst. But remember, my husband vill be home in several hours. Is that enough time?"

and, i'm spent. Next?

hahaha, oh man. Hilarious! And so true to life except the accent. Excellent!

You know the Russians invaded my homeland?

ah, crap. Sorry! I was guessing with the name...thought you might be russian.

It's okay! Slovak. From back when Czechoslovakia was still a country, not two.

hahhaa. I'm really glad I wasn't all simpery!

no no! you had to be in charge of them.

That was brilliant Levi!
A good laugh.

hah, thanks. I'm taking a break. These things take a lot out of you!

can I be in it?

Ya maybe. Yours will have to be special. I'll have to think about it a while.

oh god, I wonder what "special" could mean?

I would also like to be ravished by someone when you're done with your break, Levi. I could use a good ravishing. Please and thank you.

Damn, Levi!

I'll play.

__________________________

big S wrote:

Have a good one! I'd sing you happy birthday but the melody was written by a Sunday school teacher and i know how much you hate God so i won't sing to you. Have a good one though.

He gave me chefs. He's a darling.

This was was so great. Italics mine:

Nathaniel removed his chef's hat, and wrung it in his hands. "Listen lady, I'm known for my pastries, cakes, doughnuts, pies, and frostings. What I'm really famous for, however, they can't review in the Times. You're about to have a first class gormet delight, and it's a double serving."

Those are brilliant, Levi.

I'd like to be in one, if possible.

Oh god. I'm going to be up all night doing these.

on the waiting list:

Rosie
Frank
Justin
Sam
Alecia
Shana
and Minerva's Fighting one.

Ok....give me time. I think I'll do Justin's next.

Add me to the waiting list too, Levi. Then I'll post it up at the elementary school on their bulletin board.

We need more boys to participate.

Samantha Otterbee had just moved from a dustbowl town in Austrailia to the jumpin' city of Chicago with her parents, and she was rebelling. Dancing from night club to speakeasy, she made her own money by tending bar and serving drinks at the most swingin' joints the city had to offer. Her latest place of employment was the Drownin' Clown Pub and Grub down on 57th.

The Jazz was loud, and the smoke was thick, but Sam didn't care. She was glad to be out and about, makin' a living while she was still young and free.

Busting through the revolving door into the humid kitchen, Sam yelled, "Oi! I need two more beers and cheese sticks for table twelve, and somebody tell a busboy to clear up twenty six! I've got way more than I can handle tonight, and it's gonna just get rougher. Lutenient Frank whats-his-nose just stuck his ugly mug in here, and I ain't got time for him tonight!"

Rushing back out into the dinning room, Sam didn't notice the cook give her the finger. Turning the corner with a tray full of gin and tonics, Sam nearly walked right into Lutenient Frank's broad chest.

"Oopsie! Sorry there, coppa." Sam winked at Frank as she sloshed a gin all over his navy uniform. "Betta run home to the missus and get that cleaned up right quick."

As Sam made to leave to serve the remaining drinks, Frank caught her wrist, and pulled her in close, whispering in her ear, "You know that whole prohibition thing? You're in direct violation. If I didn't love the drink so damn much, I'd have you in cuffs right here and now." His breath was hot against her exposed neck, and she smiled secretly.

"Oh, Mr. Officer, I'm very sorry. I completely let it slip my mind. Won't happen again. I'll personally go wash the rest of our store down the drain where only the rats can drink it. That's all we ever really get in this joint anyhow, rats." She chuckled, and bit her lip, in a teasing sort of way.

Frank was seated in his favorite red leather booth. He leaned back into his seat and laughed. "Good one, Sam! get me a Scotch, and make it snappy."

"Sure thing, coppa." She spun away on her heel, making her beaded dress shimmer in the low red lighting.

Sam returned with the scotch, and snuck into the booth next to Frank to deliver it. "Here y'are, sweetie," She crooned. Frank tickled her side, and as she squealed he said, "You know, I'd love to see you up on that stage one day." He indicated the dancing flappers next to the band. "You'd make an awfully good dancer. When you're carrying those drinks, it's almost like you're dancing anyhow, hoping over drunks and spinning out of the way of an opening kitchen door. You're a marvel, and I want you to be the biggest talk of the town."

"Oh, franky, you really know the way straight to a girl's heart." Her extended index finger traced lazy circles around his badge on his chest. "I love it when you talk all your big silly dreams. Makes me feel like your one and only girl. Hey! I've got an idea. Let me say it real quiet like, I don't want anyone of these bozos to hear."

She gave a soft tug on his navy blue tie, and pulled his ear in close. As she whispered, she kissed his earlobe, and before anyone had taken a second drunken glance at the famous Red Booth number 14, the two occupants had completely vanished. If someone had been looking closely, they may have seen a high heeled shoe or police cap trying to sneak out from under the table cloth as it gently bounced up and down.

ok, another break.

me me meeeeee

oh boy. I get to knocked off the list, and here come some more! Yes, It'll be a while though.

Once there was a boy named Justin Martin Delicroix III. Growing up in Louisiana in the 1840's, Justin had quite an adventurous life.

The morning breakfast bell was rung, and Justin woke with a start. Another dreary day, he thought. Clambering out from under his covers, he made his way to breakfast.

His mother, dear Mammy May Delicroix, sat at the table in the sparkling white kitchen, and was mildly sipping her tea when Justin entered sullenly.

"Why Justin! Are you feeling down today? Let Precilla get you some oatmeal with a lil' brown shuga on top. You'll feel so much better."

"I doubt it." Justin grumbled. He took a seat, and their servant, Precilla, set a large steaming bowl of oatmeal right in front of him.

"There ya are, Masta Justin. Jus' the way you like it, wahrm, and with some brown shuga." Precilla gave Justin a toothy grin and a wink.

Justin stood up, and pushed his oatmeal away. "I'm going for a walk, mother. I need some air."

Abruptly dressing and hurring out of the house, justin made his way into the nearby Bayou. He walked along the swamp land, and turned to look back at the large Plantation house. It seemed lonely and cold even though it was brimming with servants and his mother. As he walked, he seemed to drift off into a dreamland of his own. He trudged through muddy water and swatted at miskitoes without even lifting his head.

Suddenly, Justin realized he was hearing music. It sounded like a mandelin, and maybe a banjo, and he followed the music deeper into the swamp. The sun had been hidden by a dark cloud and the overhanging trees of the bayou. The music was drifting out of a purple tent near the edge of the path through the bayou. Lifting the flap, Justin entered.

Inside the tent, the smell of insence and spices overwhelmed Justin. A large man was seated on a crimson and gold weaved blanket, strumming an instrument Justin had never seen before. He wore no shoes, a maroon vest, and rather poofy lime green pants. His light beard was auburn, and the curl of his chest hair could be seen hiding within his vest. "Ah, Hello to you, young man. You have been inticed here by the spirits of the swamp, I am thinking."

"what is that instrument?" Justin asked as he knelt down next to the man.

"It is the Grantlemum, I made it myself from the wood of a tree I found here in the swamp. The music, it is quite Haunting isn't it?"

All through their conversation, the man's quick fingers continued to play the soft music. Justin was leaning closer, and the beat seemed to be quickening. The music was reaching a crescendo, and suddenly the man stopped playing.

"Would you be wanting to see more of what I can do, young man? I know things about this swamp, and the magic it holds. Let me show it to you."

Justin was stunned. He didn't know what to think about this man, but he knew that he wanted more. This was the most excited Justin had been for a long time. "Show me," he whispered.

The man set aside his instrument, and opened a simple wooden box next to him. He took out a folded piece of black parchment paper with bright green symbols etched on it. The candle-light in the tent seemed to dim, and suddenly the paper was folded into an oragami-type box. The etchings glowed bright white, and a green whisp of vapor twisted out into the air, and danced infront of Justin's face. The whisp rushed forward, and encircled Justin and the man.

Justin awoke wrapped in a woven crimson and gold blanket to the smell of a fried egg and bacon breakfast. What had happened? he wondered.

"Ah, Justin. I am seeing you are up. It is best you go now, after you eat the breakfast. Thank you, thank you kind boy for coming into the swamp. Come see me again, and I show you more magic of the swamp. Good day!"

whoa, don't know where that came from.

list me

".....a lil' brown shuga on top."

HAHAHAHAHA!

ok,

Ritt
Nick
Rosie
Shana
Alecia
Gordon
and Minerva's fight.

maybe i'm done for tonight, unless i get inspiration suddenly.

Levi, you're good at this... a little too good.

__________________________

big S wrote:

Have a good one! I'd sing you happy birthday but the melody was written by a Sunday school teacher and i know how much you hate God so i won't sing to you. Have a good one though.

"HAHAHAHAHA" seconded

You're truly inspired, Levi!

thirded

lol How did a mandolin end up in the Louisiana swamp?

This thread is brilliant.