Thursday, 8 September 2011

Eye contact

I often get asked by people,
'Thomas, you have an amazing streak with the ladies, what do you say to them to make them swoon so much?'
Well general public, I'm here to reveal one of my biggest secrets. It's shocking, it'll make you think, make you realize how terrible you have been at finding a partner that night.
Are you ready?
Here goes......
Sometimes..........................................I don't say anything at all.

I'll let that sink in.

The problem with so many people is that they think about the words so much, they forget that from across that bar or dance floor, people are looking at you.
My biggest move is something far simpler than finding an incredibly amazing line to make someone fall hopelessly.....on your bed.
The look behind.
It's a great trick, simply because it speaks a lot more than a chat up line. With a look behind, you're looking behind for one purpose, everyone knows this. It's not as if you've had a twitch or are checking to see how far your neck can go back.
No no, you're looking behind to see THAT person. It speaks more than anything, that person knows you'd rather look like a tosser with your neck strained round than standing there looking aloof.
For example......a true story.
A time I remember this working wasn't even in a club, I was on the way home. The clubs weren't at the level I usually liked, maybe it was night I wasn't sure. Crazy I know but a good conversation can be as good as a big pair of tits.
I adjusted myself on the walk, from smart casual to 'slowly undressing so I don't need to do much when I get home'. At this time of night people are either trying to get in taxis or struggling to walk home, kind of like a self induced zombie outbreak.
Stuffing my hands in my pockets I continue my walk around the drunks, too drunk to chat up, too drunk to be of any use.
In the distance though, walking towards me was a lass who stuck out very nicely, mainly because she wasn't falling over. I'd say she was Spanish, or at least from that direction in Europe. Small, petite even but in good shape, well maintained curves in my eyes. Shoulder length dark brown hair fell and drew attention to the summer dress clinging to her.
In the dark the bright dress shined like a street lamp. The patterned flowers drew your eyes in one direction and then another, trapping you in a long stare. Luckily she could not see where my eyes were yet, the distance still my ally.
Pulling closer in our eyes meet for the first time. A glimpsed look at first, one you'd give someone if you let them go first through a narrow pavement. On closer inspection she looked better than I first realized, and older. Not too old mind you, and looking very well put together. Dark green eyes are wide and inviting, her lips painted a chocolate brown.

Read the rest of this story in:
'Sex Games' by Mouna Lott and T.H.Rusty
Out October 2011

Thursday, 1 September 2011

Didn't make the cut....

This story didn't quite make the cut when myself and Mouna finished off 'Brief Encounters', now in it's *cross fingers* final stages before moving along to actually being sold!
So, do enjoy ladies and gentlemen.

I lie sprawled out on my bed, taking each breath slow and deep. It can’t be later than seven in the morning as the light burns its good morning message in to my eyes. It’s not a good day, each muscle just wants to give up in unison. I didn’t even have a heavy night before, a few jars with the boys down at our local haunt. I guess I’m getting old, my body feels like it has been coated in pasty, each movement making it crack and ache.
I should be getting up to work, I should be finding a shirt to wear and shoes that match. I should be doing this but I just can’t give a fuck. I feel like a student again, clutching on to the last remnants of my night. Then again if I think of student me, I’m pretty sure he would tell me not to get out of bed either. The room looks the same though as it did, as if a grenade had been placed in the middle and the pin pulled.
Well’ I think to myself, ’I clearly can’t go to work like this, I’d……….let the team down?’
It’s a flimsy excuse at best but it’s all I can muster right now.
I flip out my phone to give the office a call but notice something that perks my interest first. My phone is flashing up ’One New Message’, something that everyone loves to see. Clicking on it I see it is from Michelle, an old friend of mine who I may or may not have been out with last night.
Hey you, hope you got home safe! You looked pretty wasted, if you need a nurse tomorrow give me a call ;) x’
Well that solves one mystery. Yes, I got plastered. However Michelle was out and didn’t text me that I was groping her. This is a good thing.
I push this aside for the minute and ring work. What I get is nothing short of good news. My boss is off sick, no one is really in charge today and no one would miss me if I wasn’t there.
I should be annoyed at that last bit but who cares! Day off!
My mind quickly wanders to my pervious thought, Michelle’s text. We’ve flirted in the past and there was one night when we did kiss………dare I text back? It’s already turning in to a good day for me so should I continue?
We were both drunk that night, my friend Steve’s birthday bash at a club. We’d very quickly grabbed each other and hid in a dark corner, our hands blurring over each other as time was short. Our lips never came apart, tongues entwined and moist. Her ass was firm in my hands, her dress allowing me to caress her easily. That was a long time ago, does she feel the same if I text? Clearly I do, it was just a few minutes of daydreaming and I was already standing to attention, the memories not just effecting me. I reach down and take a hold, allowing my hand to take over the thoughts and very slowly involve my cock.
I’ve always found a wank in the morning is great for clearing the ’night after’ headache. I keep thinking of her shirt skirt and low cut top, her breasts teasingly on display. In my mind she wore it for me, wanting me to know what’s on offer when I am ready. My hand pumps down on my cock faster now, her naked form filling my mind. I one handed text her, just a general one for now, telling her I feel a tad worse for wear. I slow my hand down, not wanting to finish myself off too soon.
To my surprise my phone bleeps almost immediately.

Read the rest of this story in: 
'Sex Games' by Mouna Lott and T.H.Rusty
Out October 2011