Writers Block, Writer wants ….

The maddening situation wasn’t getting any better, I had a column due on the editors desk tomorrow morning at 10am and so far I had written a great pile of nothing. I needed inspiration, I needed ideas, I needed something and I needed it fast. You see I’m a writer for a Men’s magazine, the kind that often get carried around in a brown paper bag.

Apart from making the stories sound more male orientated, i.e adding the words tits, ass and pussy into stories so men get more excited, I also write the letters and stories from the readers when we don’t have enough usable fan mail. When I say usable fan mail what I mean is that once I’ve sifted through the thousands of letters we get a month and realized that none of them are believable enough to print I then go in and edit them or create something new. For this month’s edition all four published stories need to come from my head and nothing was coming.

Staring at the computer screen was doing me no good at all and I was just about to get up and make myself a coffee when I felt a pair of hands rest on my shoulders. The hands began rubbing me gently, massaging me slowly. Almost instantly I felt tension leaving my body. My husband Gerry had magic hands, he was a masseuse and he really knew his stuff and although it took time to remove my stress and tension I nearly always had that small and instant release whenever he began.

“Awe that’s nice.” I said to him as I relaxed in the seat.

“Struggling?” He asked and I nodded.

We’d been married so long and our communication was so developed we could nearly communicate in one word responses all day. We always seemed to know and understand what the other one was thinking. I guess that’s why I wasn’t overly surprised when his hands seemingly forgot what they were doing on my shoulders and gently pushed their way down inside my loose fitting blouse.

Being at home I was of course casually dressed, no uniform for me, and once his work toughened hands inched far enough they were caressing the tops on my bare breasts. Seconds later he was rubbing both my hardening nipples between his finger and thumb. When his lips touched my neck I let out a quiet moan.

“I’ve got work to do Romeo.”

“Consider this your afternoon break.” Gerry said before returning to kiss and lick my neck just under my right ear lobe.

I slid into the seat further and relaxed a bit more, Gerry took this movement to mean exactly what I hoped he would. He removed his right hand from my breast and placed it on my leg, he then dragged my skirt up inch by inch with slow fingers. The gentle rubbing of each finger against my upper thigh sent a small electric shock through my leg. I told you he had magic hands!

He was still kissing and nibbling my neck when my skirt had been raised as far as it could go, he then placed his open hand on my inner thigh and slowly moved it upward. He only had inches to move before he reached the silky fabric of my underwear but that distance seemed to take forever.

Anticipation rising I moaned the instant his fingers slid over my silk covered crotch. He gently moved his fingers up and down, the dampness seeping through the fabric and onto his fingers. When he touched my clit I couldn’t help but moan again.

I begged him to slide his fingers past my underwear and let his fingers do the work without the restraints of fabric but he ignored me and continued to rub. After several minutes of his gentle touch, his soft rubbing, I couldn’t take it any more I pulled way from him, pushed my chair into him, stood up, pushed my keyboard from the desk, dropped my underwear and sat on the desk.

Gerry needed no further encouragement, he pushed the chair right out the way, lowered his shorts and revealed his swollen and stiff dick to me. Without hesitation he stepped between my spread legs and guided himself inside my wetness. I felt every inch as it slid into me and before he was all the way inside me my arms were around his neck and my lips were planted on his.

He started moving rhythmically and smoothly sliding his rigid tool in and out of me.

“Fuck me” I moaned as I broke the hot and passionate kiss.

As his speed increased I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked my legs against the back of his then after every outward slide I used my hips and legs to drag him back inside me, hard and fast.

Gerry put his lips on my neck and began doing to the left side of my neck what he’d only minutes before been doing to the right side. As he licked and nibbled our hips moved together meeting each others thrusts and riding each others ecstasy.

I felt his hands move down to my ass, they grabbed me and held me tight. I lifted my legs higher up his torso and gripped for all I was worth and our thrusts became even harder. Every inward thrust rocked out bodies, the desk creaked, the monitor bumped against the wall and something fell off the right hand edge and hit the floor but we were too far gone to care.

My screams were meet with his groans and his groans became my screams as we rocked, thrust and humped ourselves to orgasm, two hot and sweaty bodies entangled, wrapped and twisted together in the throws of passion and lust.

Even once we were finished I wanted to hold him inside me, I wanted to stay wrapped in his arms, I wanted to stay with my arms and legs wrapped around him, but neither of us could manage it. We both collapsed to the floor catching our breath and scared to touch each other in fear of starting something one of us couldn’t finish.

“Well, that’s one story written,” Gerry whispered as his breathing slowed down a bit.

“What?” I asked slightly surprised. “You are suggesting I use our passion for a story?”

“Surely it’s not the first time.” It was more of a statement that a question, which was just as well because I didn’t really want to admit the truth that I’m sure he suspected.

We lay together, without actually touching for nearly ten minutes before he rolled towards me, kissed my cheek and said, “If you’re still stuck in an hour call me back.” He then got up and left the room

“BASTARD!!” I thought as I began to hope for another hour of writers block.

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