Four writers for the price of one blog
…her bared teeth glinted in the harsh white light as he tugged on her collar and fucked her ass…
He stopped and read back the words, then deleted them.
Too obvious. Hmm…
…she was an apostrophe beneath him as he slid his cock on her bruised pussy flesh. He hadn’t even touched her yet but she was still so close to cumming that she squirted on him, wetting his rock hard cock with her juices…
Much better – the ladies will like that.
He typed quickly, hoping to get the story done before dinner. Anna didn’t like to wait, and since the relationship was still new, he hadn’t told her about his ‘hobby’. She was intelligent and beautiful, but so painfully type A that he refused to shock her with his tastes. If the relationship lasts more than 6 months, he would tell her why he spend so much time in his study.
He continued to type.
…her hair was a dark pool on the white sheets of her bed and her back formed an hourglass that he longed to fill with his essence. He made as if to lick at her dripping cunt, but instead, he bit down. Her scream made the beast within him roar.
He rubbed her wetness on her winking hole and pressed his cock to it. She tried to wiggle him out, but he pulled her hair until she was pliant with pain.
“Good,” he growled, and…
His cock began to swell as he wrote down yet another unfulfilled fantasy.
He stopped writing. His hand fell to his lap where his cock raged underneath his proper corduroy slacks. Without thinking, he squeezed himself over his pants and groaned as he thought of the nameless woman in his fantasies. Dark hair, narrow waist, and big tits, ever willing and ready to give her body to his every dark perverted whim. If only he could live those things without guilt and without regret…
He let go of his cock and stretched, sighing hopelessly.
“Why so glum?” a female voice asked.
“Wha- how’d you get in here?” He smiled to hide the irritation in his voice.
She leaned against the threshhold of his study door, still in her work clothes – a black cigarette skirt and a pale cream silk blouse so sheer he could see the ghost of the slip beneath. Her pantyhose gleamed over the tan skin of her legs, and she was wearing black leather sling backs.
Oh God, those shoes.
His cock twitched in his pants. She had small, shapely feet, and the shoes were cut so that he could see her toe cleavage. He’d been tempted to ask her to wear them while they fucked more than once, but he hadn’t. He didn’t want her to think him a pervert.
Pervert. Fuck, he hated that word.
She held up a key and he remembered that he had entrusted his house key to her.
She looked at him so critically that he sweat underneath his dress shirt. “You look like the cat that just ate the canary.” She tapped the back of his laptop. “Were you watching porn?”
“No…” he started tentatively, but before he could finish she walked around to his side of the desk and sat on his knee.
“Then what are you so absorbed with?” She pulled the laptop closer so she could see it. She seemed surprised to see that he’d just been writing. Without thinking about the consequences he tried to close the laptop, but she held the screen up and nudged him aside with her shoulder.
He felt a flash of anger at her nosiness but remained still as she read. Almost immediately, she giggled girlishly.
“Okay, what is this? ‘Her nipples poked through the thin fabric of her blouse and he had to restrain the urge to pinch’ — Ow!!” She turned to him, her lower lip trembling.
His hand remained on her breast. The flush rising from her neck to her cheeks made him hard again.
“Why’d you do that? I didn’t mean to be nosy, but you were acting so suspicious…” He started to pull her skirt up. “Baby, we’re going to be late for dinner and you know how the General hates tardiness,” she said, referring to her great-uncle who liked to be called the General although he’d never served in any branch of the armed forces. He pulled her to him and felt her stiffen when his erection pressed against her ass.
“So this romance novel stuff is what keeps you in here for so long?”
He wrapped his hand gently around her neck. “Don’t knock it — it helps pay the bills.” He pulled her tight skirt up around her hips even as she struggled to pull it down.
“Now’s not the time, and this isn’t the place.” She tried to stand up, but the hand at her neck squeezed. His other arm circled her waist so firmly she felt hard muscle against her ribcage.
Even though she was pissed at his strange behavior, her pussy still fluttered — no man had ever treated her that way. She leaned back into him and his grip around her neck loosened.
“I don’t write romance, Anna.” His voice was uncharacteristically tense in her ear.
She looked at the dense blocks of words and shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, Cal… please let me go. We don’t have time for this,” she said again, but her voice was barely above a whisper. His hand traveled up her thigh and painfully snapped one of the suspenders holding her stockings up. She jumped in his arms.
He felt her heart rate increase. His thoughts clicked like abacus beads. He let go of her neck and gently nudged her forward toward the computer screen.
To be continued…