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 I sat at the computer furiously typing the rough draft that would turn into, I was sure, my erotic masterpiece. I wrote it for him more then for the contest I was trying to enter. I smiled to myself focusing on the main character of the story, me, and describing my body. Petite, dark, breasts not too big and not too small, attractive. Hmmm… sounding a little too much like a personal ad. Rewrite, play up the good assets, my eyes that can one minute be boring into your soul and the next be sparkling and dancing with laughter at the uncomfortable feelings the former produced. My heart shaped lips that are perfect for wrapping themselves around you, that offer no protests only exclamations of delight. My slender hips that are attached to my long legs, and the black, silky mound that lies between.  I undressed myself for him on paper. First letting down my brown curls, allowing them to flow over my shoulders. Next unbuttoning the silk shirt I was wearing, leaving the lacy bra that gave me more cleavage then I deserved. Moving on to the skirt which slipped off easily over the silky matching panties. I leave on the heels. He lets out a low whistle, obviously pleased with what he sees.Having never written erotica before, I’m having a little trouble with what comes next. I want it to be sensual, like when we make love in the sleepy glow of morning, or when we sleep late and I awaken to him gently rubbing his hands over me, placing tiny kisses on the top of my head and in the small of my back. Just thinking about this excites me and I consider putting it aside for a quick masturbation session. I decide to give myself some action to start with. On paper I saunter towards him, he takes me in his arms and begins to finish what I’ve started, the bra is removed and my breasts released, he is kneading them, gently rolling my nipples in between his fingers. He reaches down and places his hand between my already wet crotch. Enough action, I’m off to grab the vibrator I have hidden in my sock drawer. Quickly I throw off all of my clothes except the oversized work shirt I’m wearing. I lay down on my bed and spread my legs. I continue the story in my head, imagining he’s now worked his way down to removing my panties and he’s kneeling between my legs.  I can almost feel his tongue work it’s magic on me as I move the vibrator back and forth across my clit. I begin to moan and slow myself down, I feel the pressure of the orgasm building in my stomach and my legs beginning to tremble. I know if I come now the story will be too short and I switch the setting to low. It’s inspiring me and as an aspiring writer I already know to take the muse in whatever form it chooses to arise. We are back in the bedroom. It’s him that’s slowed down to tease me. He holds up his head, his face glowing wet with my juices. “Don’t stop,” I tell him/myself as I can see him smile in my mind and I move the vibrator a little faster. So lost am I in my reverie that I don’t hear him come in. I don’t hear the door slam, neither his footsteps in the hallway nor them stopping in front of my computer. “She seductively unbuttoned each button of her silky blouse,” he began in a low, sexy voice. I jerk up in time to throw the covers over myself before he enters our bedroom.  My first reaction is to be angry with him for reading what is obviously mine.My second reaction is to notice how rich and deep his voice is, how much better the words sound coming out of his mouth then merely replayed with the voice in my head. “He reached for her, drawing her near, kissing the curve of her neck,” he continued. “Ha, ha. You can stop now,” I was beginning to get embarrassed. Didn’t he know this was just a rough draft? “He tenderly unhooked her bra.” “That’s enough,” I yelled, and threw a pillow at him. He was laughing and jumped onto the bed. In my embarrassment I had forgotten what I had been doing less then a minute ago. Before I could stop him he flung back the covers. I reached for them in vain. My hot pink vibrator went rolling out onto the floor. He just stood there with his mouth open. I was ready for him to break into peals of laughter, but he didn’t. He seemed shocked. Then I noticed something else, he was incredibly excited. The growing bulge looked like it was going to rip a hole in his Khaki’s. I began to sit up and get out of bed. “Wait a minute, Kath,” he said, gently pushing me back. He leaned down and picked up the vibrator. I didn’t know what he was thinking but I was beginning to feel as excited as he looked. He reached down and began unbuttoning my work shirt. “He seductively unbuttoned each button of his own worn out shirt,” he said, adapting my own line. He pulled the shirt open and stood back for a minute to look at me. Never had I felt so beautiful. He bent down to kiss me, then I heard it, the familiar whirl of my mechanical friend.  I adjusted my hips so I could be ready for it. Immediately my body was in the state I had left it at. Fully aroused and already so close to coming.“Here,” he said gruffly, the tension playing tricks with his voice, “you do it.” I opened my eyes and took the toy out of his hand. All of my anger had disappeared and I smiled seductively at him. I placed it on my clit and began slowly moving it up and down. In a flash he was out of his clothes and ready to play. He sidled down between my legs to get a better view. “Does that feel good?” he asked. “Mmmmhmmm,” was all I could reply. He placed his hand on top of mine and moved with me over myself. I removed my hand and he continued where I left off. Enthralled he began playing with the settings, when he reached high I let out a gasp, I was on the brink and wanted to come so badly, that again my legs were shaking. He held them open and continued bringing me closer and closer. The explosion brought colors inside of my head and I shook and gasped as the wave of orgasm passed over me. My release was too much for him and within seconds he was inside of me. “Finish your story,” he whispered as he held me tight in his arms and filled me with himself. “He filled her so completely,” I whispered, “her walls tightening all around him. She could feel him pressing against the top of her body. She cried out in pleasure as he thrust deeper and deeper.” His actions being narrated by my words quickly brought him over the edge. With one final thrust he came, then lay down to hold me in his arms. “So what are you doing home so early?” I asked. “I forgot the paper I was working on last night,” he looked up at me with the twinkle in his eye, “good thing I didn’t grab the wrong one.” Playfully I hit him with a pillow and he got up to go back to work. I went back to my own work in progress, this time with a newfound energy. The contest was the furthest thing from my mind. What better reward could this story bring then the one I had already gotten?
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