Boobs. I stopped reading your story because of your character's boobs, jugs, tits, knockers, fun bags, milk sacks, sweater puppies, bosoms, bazooms, breastesses. You see, I am one of the many, many, many people whose overly large penis only gets hard if the character in a poorly written smut story has boobs that are 33 1/2 large B cup. If you tell me they are 31 A, 34 B, 34 C, 36 DD, 34 FF, I stop reading because my thingy goes soft. If you tell me they were small, medium, large, firm, high, soft, slightly saggy, or hanging down to her knees, in my mind they are 33 1/2 large B cup, and I generally squirt gallons of female ejaculate (it's not urine - I swear) all over my keyboard within seconds. And that is what you want, isn't it?
For any of you who care, I have been writing, almost a chapter a day. But unfortunately not on the story that needs to be finished ... because I fucking hate it. Don't get me wrong, the story is so good you will hunt me down, pull me from my house, call the local TV station and tell the world how great I am as I humbly blush. But it's like the lawn that needs to be cut. It's there, but if I ignore it, tomorrow I might be motivated to push the damn mower around. Maybe its because I'm about to kill off some of the attractive heroines, but I doubt it. They were poorly developed and I never really cared about them much. I think its because they are about to go into a dark spooky cave and confront the bad guy and I'm a bit claustrophobic and pathologically scared of the dark. Funny those things didn't bother me when I wrote the first draft.