Ink vs Ember test - fun for all
Here are two stories that I just generated. They both use the same prompt, and no components. The point was to have as clean a test as possible to see the difference between them.
Here's the prompt:
[This chapter is in close third person on Sheila] "But honey," Sheila said, placing her hand on Terry's chest and looking up into his eyes. "We came to the party. It would be rude to leave now."
"We didn't know what it was! They can't expect us--"
She kissed him. "Look. Give it a chance. We are new in the neighborhood. We don't want to give them a bad first impression."
"I don't know. I just...." Terry frowned, and rubbed his forehead, right at his hairline, the way he always did when worried. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
"Well, I don't know. But how can we know we don't like it if we don't at least try it?"
"Ok. If it's what you want." Terry sighed, then dropped their keys into the bowl.
The hostess, an attractive woman in her 40s--a little older than his and Sheila's 38 years, but she was in good shape--called for attention. She explained that the women would take a set of keys, then hold it up for the owner to identify. A young woman--younger than Sheila, in better shape, with very long hair and small breasts, skinny--basically the exact opposite of her--pulls out keys and holds them up. Terry's. She feels a brief pang of jealousy, but he looked almost relieved. He caught her eyes and she nodded to him, smiling. He moved over by the woman and they began talking.
Sheila takes a set of keys, looking around at the men still left--a short but very muscular young man with a bald head; a tall, trim man she knew was an assistant professor at the college. Literature, she thought, but she didn't really remember; a somewhat pudgy, scruffy man who worked with computers. She felt around in the bowl, trying to discern which keys belonged to which man. She had never noticed how similar key fobs really were. They all felt the same. She took a breath and grabbed a set, holding them up without looking at them. The three men looked up, and quickly the bald man and the pudgy guy looked disappointed; the look sent a thrill through her body, amping up the heat growing in her belly.
She walked to the tall man and introduced herself. He turned out to be quiet, but nice. He had a welcoming smile and warm, intelligent eyes.
They talk for a while, then the hostess tells everyone that they were welcome to stay around, to just close the door on the way out. As she's talking, the bald man pinches her behind and she squeals. "Have fun, everyone!" She and the man leave.
As they walk to his house--four houses down from hers--they talk about his job, and his life. He says he's been married for about 12 years. He had suggested the party to his wife because things had been getting a bit stale the last few years. Sheila asks him what he's into. He says he's pretty open, that part of the reason for the party was to experience new things.
They get to his house--a nice place, clean. No kids, no pets. He opens some wine and they sit on the sofa, talking some more. She admits to feeling a bit awkward. He says it's often that way, particularly the first time. It is so different that we don't have a script for how to behave, or how these things should go. He's found that, if all else fails, just closing your eyes and having a kiss usually helps. It puts you into an experience you know, a story that you are familiar with. She agrees, sets her wine aside. She takes a breath and closes her eyes.
His kiss comes as a surprise. Gentle, soft lips. The nerves had settled in her as a general excitement. When his tongue tentatively parted her lips, she welcomed him. Suddenly--maybe, like he said, it was a matter of finding a story she was familiar with--he body jumped into gear, excited and ready. He is slow, respectful, but also eager and attentive.
They get partially naked on the sofa, kissing and touching, exploring each other's bodies. After a time, she reaches for his crotch and feels he is hard and erect. Maybe it's time to move to the bedroom? she asks. He nods.
He leads her to what looks like the guest room. Once there, they undress each other and she discovers he is exceptionally well-hung--9 inches, at least, but thin. Almost the opposite of Terry, who was of average length but thick. They use a dental dam as he gives her oral sex, and she puts a condom on him and gives him a bit of a blowjob, neither one of them orgasming. Then they have sex and she orgasms, but quietly. It is not even a very good one. He orgasms loudly, almost theatrically, then collapses beside her, panting. He almost immediately begins to caress her body (just her arms and stomach).
They recover and talk more about work, about the neighborhood, about who else from the party he's had sex with. About his doctorate, and what he studied--Chaucer, specifically his dissertation was about the Miller's tale. He was having an affair with his advisor's wife at the time. He thought he was being clever with his dissertation; he wasn't. The advisor knew about the affair, and later ended it.
"The affair or the marriage?"
"Himself."
They get very quiet. Then he turns to her, and thanks her for the night, asking how things were for her. She says they were ok.
Oh, he asks. Not that great?
No, it was fine. You were great.
That doesn't sound convincing, he says.
Don't be silly, she says. She looks him in the eye and says he was great. He says:
"Alas, you lords, many a false flatterer
Is in your courts, and many a liar,
That please you well more, by my faith,
Than he who says the truth unto you."
She is confused.
Chaucer, he says. Well, modernized. Still, would you mind giving me another chance?
Sure, she says, smiling. You are eager.
Yes I am, he says, smiling back.
[chapter ends here]
