She had very beautiful hands.
As she removed her class ring and immediately started breaking up the marijuana that had brought her to the car in the first place, that was the main thought that permeated through Mark’s mind. It wasn’t about her ass, which judging by the way it fit into her black tights was firm enough to bounce a nickel off of. It wasn’t about her tits, which were accentuated just perfectly with her v-neck and fake sterling silver charm necklace. It was her hands. Soft, freshly manicured, and daring him to imagine how they’d feel--running through his hair, running up and down his cock. These were the hands of Venus and they were turning him into the creepy bastard every man became when confronted with a beautiful woman.
“Uh...do you want to talk?”
The girl simply shook her head, talking was not a part of this ritual. She had to have been used to it, he assumed, a girl that could properly roll a blunt was a hard thing to find. They were usually taught by guys and considering the whole seediness of stoner culture--it wasn’t a long leap to imagine that the empty dutches and altered state of mind had lead to empty panties and rash decisions. Mark wasn’t going to lie, he was intimidated by her--she was probably a lot more experienced than him both in regards to spliff rolling and in regards to random stoned sex.
Of course, that was on him--making the leap that smoking with a girl alone was a guarantee to having stoned sex.
It was bad to assume that every girl who smoked weed was fucking like a rabbit coming out of two weeks of solitary confinement, but this was 2011. The Sexual Revolution had come and gone and it had left the United States filled with would be whores--who couldn’t even really be called whores. The plain truth was that it was simply easier for girls to get laid than it was for guys. Pussy was power and women knew this from a very early age, Mark had to just look at his own life to affirm that saying--of all his accomplishments the loss of his virginity ranked disproportionately high up there.
She worked both her hands and her tongue perfectly as she rolled the now thick dutch. He had seen his friends roll up countless times, but never had it been so goddamn sensual. Was he just imagining it? She seemed so passive and carefree as her hands began at the tip and worked their way gently down the shaft of the fattie. Every second or so she’d lick with an enthusiasm and skill that would send a priest into a cold shower. Finally, she looked up at him with her big brown eyes...
“Do you have a poker?”
And there! The silence was broken and his live doobie rolling sex doll was looking at him expectantly. Did he have a poker for her? Oh, if only she knew. Still, Mark disconnected his headphones and handed them to the girl. She poked and she packed and she roasted. Soon, she raised the thick and hardened object to her mouth, puckered her lips and sucked until it was glowing red.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
She had too.
The word "blunt" is used 5 times in this piece and it totally brings it down. I find word choice to be a necessity when writing, you don't want to keep using the same terms because it comes off as repetitive and eventually gets boring. You obviously started to notice this because you eventually use the term "dutch", I would also suggest using "spliff" but I have heard other terms as well.
ReplyDeleteAs for the actual content, it's decent, readable, and a little interesting. Your commentary on woman's current empowerment through sexual liberation is a bold topic, but hardly controversial. Meaning someone may get appalled by the statement but you'll hardly piss off the whole gender.
Very legit criticism, a fault of my own limited vocabulary. I will go back and do some edits and hey, decent isn't bad. I'm just glad to be producing again. Hopefully it gets better with time.
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