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|04-20-2017, 02:19 PM||#1|
Join Date: Aug 2013
Pornsite reviews - copywriter needed
I am looking for copyrighter that love his work. He can tell the story and sell the product. He is rewriting his texts at least 5 times. He is reading books about copywriting and advertising. English language.
Please send me some examples of paysite reviews and prices to [email protected]
|04-21-2017, 12:22 PM||#3|
Join Date: Mar 2006
good luck man
|04-21-2017, 03:31 PM||#4|
Join Date: Mar 2017
Hey a friend recommend this thread to me that you search people who love their work. We are little group of writers and would like to be hired on longer term. At the moment I can't write you a mail because I'm on my phone so I will post some example here for now and tomorrow will shot you a mail,but if you like what you'll read feel free to wrote us.
Check this out:
I step out into the cool evening and take a deep breath of crisp autumn air, wrapping my faux fur coat tighter around me. Closing the front door behind me, and with it my children, safely curled up on the sofa watching a film with a big bowl of popcorn and their favourite babysitter, a smile spreads across my face.
I feel myself transitioning from mummy to wild woman, the domesticity of my week blowing away in the gentle breeze. I donít look back as I walk down the four concrete steps and along the path, my heels click-clacking in time with the swaying of my hips. A black cat slinks across the path, disappearing into the shadows, ready for a night of roaming, prowling, running free. Feeling a sense of kinship with the feline creature so driven by her senses and desires, my smile widens.
Closing the iron gate behind me, I look around for a moment and take in the night, feeling myself coming alive with the magic in the air. A violet twilight renders everything silhouettes, from the row of tall townhouses in our street, to the pavement-planted trees, proudly standing sentinel every few metres along the wide road. Itís silent in these suburbs, and we pay a princely sum for the privilege of being buffered from the bustling noises of the city at night, but right now itís what I crave. I can hear her calling to me Ė the city Ė I can hear the purr and roar of the traffic, the shouts and laughter. I can feel the rush, the anonymity her vibrant cloak offers. It draws me towards her with a longing I can only set free once a week, when I play my game.
As if on cue, the sound of an engine permeates my thoughts, and my cab draws up in front of me. Sliding into the back, Iím aware of my red dress riding up, giving the young Asian driver a flash of the lacy tops of my stockings. I donít smooth it down into place, I open my legs slightly, the sight of his eyes widening as he pulls his gaze up to my face lights a fire in my belly, hot molten lust spreading through my veins like wildfire. Tossing my long red curls over my shoulder, I tell him my destination, and with an audible clearing of his throat, he manages to turn his attention to the road and drive.
My excitement grows as we near town and the streets we travel become busier. A sweet anticipation sings inside me, a delicious hum already starting between my legs as I think about whatís to come. Who will I give myself to tonight? I wonder. Who? Where? The adventures Iíve had in recent weeks since I started this game have been out of this world. They flash through my mind in quick succession Ė a flipbook of images, raw, naked, covert. My body melts with the visions. Itís all I can do not to moan and I grip my handbag to stop my hand from slipping between my legs, under my skirt. I bite my bottom lip gently. I wonít touch myself, though it would be so easy to do so, a seasoned pro I am in the art of masturbation, or bringing myself to climax. I could do it right here, right now, with a few simple strokes of my fingers against my ripe and yearning clit. But I wonít. Iíll let it build and simmer Ė the lust. The lust that Iíd once thought had fizzled out for good leaving only the burnt, barely glowing embers of comfortable sex after ten years of marriage.
I didnít feel bad about the games, about my newfound raving desires that burn bright through my cells and moisten my pussy, about the encounters that stay with me long after the physical touch, revisiting me during the day whilst Iím cleaning or cooking, my body trembling with the echoes of passion. Itís awakened another part of me, a part I always suspected existed but kept locked away tight while I behaved like a respectable mother, a proper wife.
I remember that first time Ė that first game night Ė the motorcyclist, the wild ride through the night into the dark stillness of the countryside, the engine of that big machine thrumming between my legs. The feeling of his leathers against my naked body, the things we did on the back of that bike in the seclusion of the deserted lay-by. My body is quivering with the memory, Iím breathless with it. Desperate for release.
No, I donít regret any of it. How can I regret something that has bought me so alive? My husband certainly isnít complaining; my sex drive is soaring and the unexpected quickies in the laundry room or his office when Iím horny Ė which these days is often, are putting a constant smile on his face.
I love him, I really do, and I love making him smile. So the games will continue.
I notice the driver glancing at me in the mirror as the city lights whizz past, and I canít help a fantasy engulfing me, my wild imagination instantly conjuring a vision up as I notice his well muscled thighs, his hand gripping the gear stick. I imagine straddling him right here in his cab. Letting my dress ride up around my waist, unzipping his jeansÖ
ďThis ok for you?Ē He asks, startling me out of my ponderings.
I look around and realise weíve arrived at the hotel Iíve chosen for tonightí
Hope this kind writing is what you need.
Have a nice weekend,
ENGLISH & FRENCH OTC
stories, blog posts, reviews, descriptions for sites, videos, galeries, articles and etc.
more than 10 text contents at ones order always better price
CONTACT US AT [email protected]
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