smut marathon

Smut Marathon – Round 7 Musings

Smut Marathon – Round 7 Musings

Smut Marathon Round 7 Musings

Wow, it’s been a long week waiting for the results of this round. I was more than a little nervous and that only increased when I saw the quality of writing that had been submitted by everyone else. I’m happy to go whenever; I’m constantly in shock that I’ve even made it this far. I just really didn’t want to leave knowing I hadn’t done my best. In theory, I think I had a reasonably good idea. But somehow, when I wrote it down, the good idea got lost entirely.

This was my entry:


 Little Red Riding Hood

In the shadow of our tree, eyes fixed on the creviced bark, I waited in the woods. Crotchless red latex panties, black boots, a hooded crimson cape covering my sleek, obsidian curls. You always loved to make me wait, minutes crumbling away as the anticipation inside me heightened. Would you let me come today? Let me taste you? Would my skin be left glowing, an intricate maze of scarlet strikes only we could decipher?

I heard the crunch of boots against the freshly fallen leaves and scattered twigs. My feet shifted as adrenaline flooded through my body, tingling my fingers and twitching my cunt. Two weeks I’d suffered denial. Now heat radiated through every cell as I felt your hand reach for my hood and drag the fabric down to my shoulders. Warm breath tickled the top of my head and I gradually lifted my eyes to meet yours. They pierced straight through mine, like lightning striking all the way down to my toes. They were the eyes of a wolf, glacier blue and penetratingly hungry.

“Did you wear what I asked?”

You grabbed my hand and spun me around, inspecting my minimal outfit with visible approval.

“Good girl.”

You knew they were the sweetest words I could hear. Always capable of unravelling me, freeing me, seducing me. As my chest rose with pride at your appreciative stare, I let my head drift in the haze of a familiar scent. Shaven wood and Paco Rabanne, increasing in strength as you urgently thrust my body into yours. You didn’t know, but I saw your teeth sink into your lip. It was only a glimpse, but I saw how you almost lost control.

Then, you kissed me. So desperately forceful I stumbled back into our tree, a rag doll in your sturdy arms. I could feel your cock straining, denim and buttons rubbing against my latex-framed cunt. You growled into my mouth then, a vibration that quivered my lips and sunk into my core. I knew my impatience made you mad, but I couldn’t control my hands as they grasped at your jean covered cock. Wouldn’t you let me, just this once?

It only took one arm for you to pin both of mine against the tree, forcing sprinkles of bark to shower over my head. Part of me wanted to sulk as I heard the heavy arousal in your whisper,

“Good things come to those who wait.”

Why did you love to tease me so much? And why was it so painfully good? The kisses on my chest were agonizingly light and I had to arch my back to feel just that slightest bit more. So close to my nipples that the warmth of your breath hardened them into taut peaks. Your lips were so close, so tormentingly close.

Do you remember how wet I was then? You only stroked the inside of my thighs but I knew that I had soaked you. I could taste the bitter sweetness as your finger thrust into my mouth. I still shiver over the sound you made as I licked and sucked, trying to tempt you, to please let me taste you.

It worked though, didn’t it? As you took your satisfied finger from my mouth and pushed my body down into a squat, bulging denim in line with my mouth. That’s when I decided to use your own words against you, good things would come if you would wait. My tongue stroked you through the denim, long licks running up and down your shaft. Then I sucked so hard on your covered tip I was sure I could taste you beneath the fabrics flavour.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been such a tease? Perhaps then I could have had you in my mouth? But you were too hungry by then, you’d caught your prey and now you were ready to feast. You stood me up, spun me around and pushed your hand into the small of my back, bending me into the shape of a tree hunting for light. I responded, clutching the rough bark and spreading my legs wide enough to feel the cool breeze hit my cunt. The seconds it took for you to wrap your cock were too long for me to wait. I was achingly desperate, rubbing myself wildly, building to an edge only you could pull me over. I felt your cock stroking my cunt, thick and hard as it searched for the depths of release. As you finally entered me, my orgasm struck immediately like thunder in a storm.

Do you remember how loud I moaned then? How you had to cover my mouth as you fucked me into another ferocious release?

I was your Little Red Riding Hood and you, you were my wolf.


So… Where did I think I’d gone wrong?

Firstly, my title promised Little Red Riding Hood and my entry did not deliver. The connection was so weak, it really wasn’t even there. Secondly, I wrote a scene rather than a story, which never goes down as well and was the main reason I was so concerned about this round. After I submitted this, I looked back at an old Wicked Wednesday entry I had done and I knew my entry wasn’t nearly as good. It just wasn’t the best I could do.

There were sentences in this I liked, but I’m still shocked I scraped through to the next round. Even if it was only by 0.2 of a point.

My feedback was somewhat out of line with my perception of it though. There was agreement that Little Red Riding Hood was a reach, if that. Some people felt it was smutty enough, some felt it wasn’t. There was a dislike in casting the reader as the wolf and it was noted that the character of the people wasn’t shown.

I am really grateful for everyone’s feedback and will be keeping it all in mind when I write my next entry. Which, I hope, will be a whole lot better.

My Favourites

Whilst there is no denying that absolutely every single entry was good, there were a few that were more in line with my personal preferences. So, starting with the two I voted for, these were my favourites:

Round 8

We’ve had the email with our next assignment and for the first time, I’ve already had an idea I like. I will be sure to enter my best attempt this time and then, whatever happens, I know I will be content to leave. There were a few writers I always envisaged being in the final, but each round is showing me how unpredictable the marathon can be. I find what I like in a story is out of line with the majority. I don’t personally mind if it isn’t dripping with sex, I’m mostly drawn to a good story that’s beautifully written. Every writer is probably as nervous as I am right now, it’s impossible to know who will make the cut and who will be cut.

Make sure you have your say in the next round, on Sunday, September 16th!

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1 Comment

  1. You have been so consistent in this competition and you know I wish you would write more stories for your blog. I think you have a natural instinct for fiction.
    Look at your best work in the competition, and i know that wicked Wednesday story, and draw from them – I love your almost comedic ability.
    Often what we know and have experienced can be put into our fictional work. Loads of luck sent your way x

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