Forum: Editors/Reviewers Hangout

"her silt" appears in 10 SOL stories, according to advanced search. I'm struggling to think of any situation in which that might be valid ;-)

AJ

After wading along the shore she lay in the sand for a while then went to the showers to clean off. The cold spray makes her shiver and sends her silt streaming down the drain. Something like that. But I think a better "her silt" must be available. I feel the need to do a little story with that title.

I'm prone to typos, so I checked to see if I was guilty of a possibly improper silt. I found "silt" appears in three of my stores, but always used properly.

She drops the chemise onto the grass and takes a step into the water. It is cold. The swans are almost out of sight. The soft silt settles about her toes. She feels the eyes of the man on her bare bottom. She squats in the shallow water. At first only a dribble, but then the stream comes, splattering the water, a small silvery sound. A bluejay squawks. Her pee finished, she presses two fingers between the lips of her sex, then brings her hand to her nose, to her lips. For a moment she has almost forgotten about the man.

Sharon wants to scream but she doesn't—the shock of the cold water too great. She tries to grip the water. It eludes her. The bottom is soft silt. She stands, slips, stands. She sucks everything about herself deeply in. She's shivering. She's sinking in the silt. The water is up to the undersides of her breasts. The level barely reaches the man's waist. She tries to take a step towards him, loses her footing and goes under again. When she comes up the water doesn't seem quite so cold. Maybe she's gone numb. The man takes a step towards her. He puts his arms around her. He starts rubbing her with the washcloth. She's still shivering. The washcloth feels good. It feels good as he rubs the rough fabric over her back, above and below the water. "Mmm," Sharon hums. She holds the man as he rubs the cloth on her back. It makes her warmer. Her feet slip in the silty bottom. She grasps for the man, her hands grip the muscles of his upper thighs, his butt. He's still wearing his workout pants. He turns her around. He moves the cloth over her breasts, her shoulders, her belly. "Mmm," Sharon says. The sun on her face and the water touching the rest of her feel the same temperature now. The man cleans Sharon's face with the cloth. He is careful to clean every part of her face. Then he kneels in the silt. Sharon feels the cloth on her legs. Her knees, calves, thighs, and bottom. The cloth caresses her cunt. "Mmm," Sharon says. Now she's not sure whether she's hot or cold. She doesn't care.

My feet sink into the soft silt of bottom mud. Soon I'll dunk myself. Submerged, I'll be me again.

Now I wonder whether I've ever intended silt but accidently employed slit.