Background
As a writer, I often look for a picture that's close to my mental image of a character I'm developing to help me get more details. But there's also the strategy of starting with a picture and letting your brain write the story based on what it sees (and imagines) from that starting point. The picture is called a writing prompt--a nudge to get the brain going.This thread is intended as a place to try using prompts. Obviously, JUB provides us plenty of images to work from. And there are lots of ways to use them. I'd like to see what others do with this kind of prompted writing.
To get started, here's one I put together today. I think the title not only fits this story but is a good label for this kind of prompted writing.
Brief Encounter
Fiction suggested by this image
So I’ve been going to the pool at my apartment complex since I moved in a couple of months ago. I get home from work, slip on my Speedos or board shorts, swim a few laps and check out whoever’s there. Since I’m fairly light-skinned and the sun here in Arizona’s stronger than a laser beam, I can’t stay long.A week or so ago, I saw this new guy there. Well, he was new to me. Kind of stocky, but not too pudgy or too ripped. You know, just good and solid. Reddish-blonde hair with some natural sun highlights. Like mine. That’s an Arizona thing. If you’ve got light-colored hair and you go outside every day, it gets some highlights. No fuss, no muss, no extra cost.
Anyway, so I was checking him out and he was checking me out. Real subtle like. Scanning across the whole pool but making sure to do a little stutter-stop-start thing right when you’re looking at the other guy. On one of my lap turns, I took a break and came up poolside, right in front of the lounger he was stretched out on. His legs were spread just wide enough I could see a few pubes poking out around the leg openings of his Speedos.
Whoo-eeee! That did it for me.
“You using SPF 50?” I asked him. I was hanging there, you know, with my elbows and forearms locked on the side of the pool, giving him my biggest shit-eating grin.
“I’m good at 30,” he said. “But thanks for asking.”
“No problem. Just I haven’t seen you here much. I wasn’t sure you knew how bad the sun is. Especially for us light-skinned guys. Skin cancer capital of the world, you know.”
“Thanks, but I got the memo. Looks like you don’t sunscreen topside, just your legs. What’s that about?”
“Nah, I don’t use it at all. My watch limits me to 15 minutes and my bottom’s in the water. Only my top gets toasted.”
Right on cue, the alarm on my watch went off. So, I said, “Hey, I’m in 315, Building C. We should hang out some time.”
He gave me a head nod and I returned it, swam to the other end of the pool, grabbed my towel, and headed out the gate. I made sure to cross to the shade on the tiny patch of lawn the complex pours expensive water on. Walking barefoot on a sidewalk in Arizona is a classic rookie mistake.
Couple of hours later, there was a soft knock on my door. I threw on my old workout shorts since I hadn’t bothered to dress after I showered the pool chemicals off.
“Pretty sure I can’t finish all of this,” he said when I opened the door. He held up a delivery pizza in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other and grinned. “You look like you could use a few more carbs.”
I glanced down at the basketball shorts he had on and saw he was showing a healthy bump in the front and there was no sign of another waistband underneath.
“I suppose I could eat something,” I said. I’m pretty sure my face had morphed into that frisky smile I can’t help showing whenever I’ve said something halfway clever.
By the end of the second slice and most of a beer each, we were both tented enough to be pretty obvious. Our conversation had progressed all the way through first names, current employers and “This is pretty good for delivery.”
I pushed the pizza box shut, took it and the four beers to the fridge, and said, “These’ll keep. My bed’s made. Let’s see if we can mess it up.”
He smiled really wide, took one last slug of beer and set the can on the table. When he stood up, we both looked down at each other’s front. He was pointed straight out, just like me.
“Good timing,” he said. “Another couple of bites and I’da been leaking all over.”
I slipped my shorts down over my pole and stepped out of them as I crawled up on the bed and rolled over. Made it just in time, too! I got to see him pull his waistband way out to get past his cock, which now angled up past 90 degrees.
I motioned for him to spin around and straddle me. Then we dived in for a sloppy, wet 69 session, each taking as much of the other’s cock as we could and burying our noses in each other’s pubes on the downstrokes.
“Damn, you got a nice dick,” he said, pausing to get his breath. “And uncut, too. I love playing with these.”
He grabbed my cock, which was so hard that he had to pry it up and away from my belly. He slid his expert fingers around it and moved the foreskin up and down a couple of times, watching as the head disappeared and reappeared. Beads of pre-cum oozed out on the upstrokes.
Damn, that felt amazing! Sometimes I think another guy’s hand on my dick is hotter than a good tongue. But that’s probably just because I spend so much time using my own hand on it. If I could only self-suck, you know?
I got as much of his tool in my mouth as I comfortably could, which was over half. Neither of us is what I’d call huge. But I’m not into dick plunges or shooting pool with my uvula. I was pleased to lick up a fair amount of his pre-cum for my efforts. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been flying solo lately, but I knew I wasn’t fit for a long flight in the 69.
“Condoms and lube in the top drawer,” I told him. “I’d love to have your tongue on my hole, but we’ll have to save that for another time. For now, just fuck me. Hard.”
His mouth popped as it came off my cock and he reached past my head to the nightstand.
“I really like a guy who knows exactly what he wants,” he said, that big grin crossing his face and a dribble of spit and pre-cum running down off his lip. “If I get going too hard, just let me know. Except when I’m ready to shoot. At that point, I automatically hit top gear and go full throttle. No steering, no brakes.”
Simply amazing. I’ve never had a guy penetrate me so gently and forcefully at the same time. I was out of practice, for sure. But he got me back to varsity status with just a couple thrusts.
“Goddamn, man,” I whispered in his ear between thrusts. “Can you just stay in there for, like, the rest of the week?”
He tipped his head back, gave me that grin again. Then, he pushed the head of his dick expertly against my prostate for a second before letting it slip off and glide further up the chute. I moaned. Loud. He immediately put his mouth on mine and we started tongue wrestling. That quieted me right down, but it didn’t diminish the jolts of pleasure running up through me.
“We need to be a bit quiet,” he said when he pulled his lips away. “I’ve heard this place has really thin walls.” Another grin.
I started to laugh, of course. Ok, I’ll admit it was actually a giggle. And I couldn’t help it. Because anyone who’s spent five minutes in these apartments knows you can check your neighbor’s respiration and pulse without even putting a glass against the wall, let alone a stethoscope.
Yeah, you guessed it. I was a pre-EMT for a while. ‘Til I found out that people actually die during emergency calls. Not for me.
Anyway, so he gave me the absolute best fuck of my life, even though it didn’t last very long. Experts say that the average for men from initial erection to ejaculation is around seven minutes. I know I didn’t make it that long. I shot a thick wad onto my pillow to the left of my head with a deep grunt and then spurted a couple more between my pects. I was down to final dribbles when he turned into a Formula 1 racer taking a quarter-mile straightaway, just like he had warned me.
Goddamn! I swear, I almost shot a second full cum right then.
You’d have to ask him, but I’m pretty sure I automatically contracted my ass a couple of times and that helped him out, too. Not that I want to take anything away from him. When his rocket went off, he stood bolt upright on his knees, his cock fully inserted in my ass, our pelvises smashed together, and shot the condom full of cannon balls of cream.
Glad I didn’t buy the cheap ones.
As we lay on my bed, gasping and laughing, I couldn’t help but wonder—as one does at such times. Will we ever fuck this good again?
His mind was, evidently, in another place altogether.
“You know,” he said when he’d caught his breath, “there’s a tanning salon down the street where you can go nude. Drop in there once every couple of weeks, and you wouldn’t look like a half-toasted slice of white bread.”
I finished the pizza for breakfast.
