It's not my first ever erotic story, but I was so inspired by this that I decided to give the DWS method a shot, and committed myself to writing 5,000 to 10,000 words a day. It's robosexual romance, which should classify it as science fiction. However, Imma proponent of something called futuristic realism, so it's not supposed to read like science fiction, but instead like the present day.
Here's how it goes…
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"Saw anything he'd love to write about?"
"Yuli's gonna love what I got." That's me. A black guy clad in a tee and sports shirt. Chubby cheeks and plump trunk. Cheap little sweater too, and it wasn't doing a good job holding that husky belly. Sigh. Twelve years, I had that.
Never mind me; may I present the lovely Dotaton! "So, what was it?" She was moving books from a shelf into a cardboard box. I motioned as if it were something profound and said, "Pelicans." She didn't move. She didn't nod or shake or anything, save a few jerks. "Is that all?"
"I watched pelicans 'n ducks all day. Twas pretty."
Dota had her words for me, "Remember that frompy lady? She wrote us a thank you letter. "
"Twas her three coins."
"Now she has a means of income that can support her, as well as something of a son to make up for the one she lost. You do know the news will come for Yuli, yes?”
“'Twill be a splendid opportunity to spread technostism."
“She says she wished she hugged you more tightly.”
"Twas a happy scene. Yuli's proud and so am I."
Okay. I apologize for the pseudo-formality, that's just what I do when I bumble around, tryna be unique. From outside came a laugh. That was the neighbors, enjoying themselves. I made myself act like Yuli and said, “Wanna go for a walk?” She nodded and stood. Her blouse fell to her denim-slapped thighs. I put down my leather-skin journal and opened the door. “After you.”
There was a nip to the night as October winds kissed our faces. As we passed Yuli's Altima, we waved to his neighbors, who were sitting in plastic chairs and smoking cigarettes behind the tales of their day. And I gave a nod to one of the kids running across the yard after her brother, himself even younger than her.
“Did you check the mail?” She shook her head, starting me to the mailbox. A couple of bills and a bitta physical spam. I handed it to her.
“Look at that moon.” 'Twas the violet sky that framed it so well, a mostly-full moon better suited for Halloween and honeymoons. The twilight of Venus's belt let the stars fly. She gave it stare and walked to the trailer. “Wait, doncha wanna walk?” She turned around and apologized.
“Yuli needs me ready.”
And 'twas true, Yuli did call her back. I felt defeated and stared at her ass. The triple curve inwards in the center, the fold where the legs come into the pelvis, all reassurance for a primal lust. As I always did when giving a naughty stare, I wondered if women realize how odd it must be. What is it about butts and breasts anyway? Subconscious tickles towards an Apex? Or a little tease all rhined minds need…?
His house was meek, without decoration or flair. In fact a tad nasty around the edges, but it wore its history well. It was his mother's old trailer, in fact, given to him for free twelve autumns ago. He told me that it was the greatest gift he'd ever received, though he didn't realize it 'till he saw life wash through his mother's eyes when he gave her the home of which she dreamed, all of a year later. And he left himself to such a humble thing because he's smart, you see. Unlike me, he thought longterm and saw no reason to waste a gift. The bills I gave Dota were a rare breed around him, for he made sure he could pay for what he wanted upfront— and he usually could. Save things that necessitated monthly doles, he owned everything he had. Unlike me, he was humble with his wealth.
Dota helped him as well, and he repaid her as he repaid his mother— with physical love, though love of a different sort.
She was inside first, and was in another room when I came in. The living room was clean, even with a geriatric cat and its kitten sister. The TV hung on the wall like a painting, and carried news of pleasant little things. Dota wasn't coming out of the far room, not yet, not for me. Never for me.
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That's part of the build up. Whaddya think? Overwritten? The most putrid bile the universe has ever suffered to contain?
I set the price too high, methinks. Should it be 99 cents?
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/3p1biu/ive_published_my_first_robosexual_erotica_short