Her muse does not love her anymore
(c) Stolen-Luck.deviantart.com (me)
"… his hand ran over the folds and valleys of her nether, while he allowed a finger to plunge into her sweet comforting oasis. Diving deeper…" The cursor blinked repeatedly hanging on the letter "R". It ticked, waiting for the typist to carry on with poetic lust; however she drummed her fingers lightly over the keys and tried to conjure up a grammatical masterpiece that would satisfy her to sl**p.
The night summer air blown in through the cracked window, and lightly blew stray scribbled on papers and un-capped pens on the desk. The pens rolled to the floor and disappeared underneath the seat but uncaringly, Charlotte watched them drop and vanish beneath the seat. She massaged the temples of her head trying to get some creative juices flowing, however it was a lost cause. The events earlier that day rendered her into a dry, art block. Her muse had grown tired of her….
She looked toward the bed. Sloppy sheets, pulled to the foot of the bed and tossed pillows greeted her in a disorderly fashion as she slowly headed toward bed. Drowsy with sl**p and week from woe, she crawled into the blanket still wearing the day's clothes, and buried her face into a near pillow. Closing her eyes she drifted into sl**p.
She stirred, feeling a light tickle aimlessly run up the back of her leg, to her thigh and to finally linger at her panty line. Charlotte lied there smiling into the pillow, waiting for more. Oh babe, touch me… She spread her legs giving a hint onto where to start, and he went for it. He immediately lifted her skirt and moved the crotch of her panties aside while continuously working a finger on her clit. She moved her hips opposite his finger to catch the friction of it against her vaginal walls, thus creating a wave of pleasure that crashed into her.
She began to moan while he fingered deeper and deeper, slowly adding one more finger, until she was stuffed with three of them. Oh honey, faster please. She urged as she lifted her hips off the bed. She spread her legs wider welcoming him. She wanted more of him… His thumb pressed unto her clit as they dug in and out of her. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead and inner thighs as the heat of passion became unbearable as she . She lifted her ass off the bed and leaned forward so her bottom jutted out. The cushion of the bed was soft beneath her knees as they bore down, ready for him to get behind her and push. Come on baby, you know what to do…Fuck me. She spread her ass feeling the room air cool her wetness.
He spoke, "Say you love me." Without hesitation, she opened her mouth to speak however no words came out. What's going on? Why can't I speak "Don't you love me Char? Say you love me." He pressed her to speak. I am trying. I can't- "She closed her eyes and let out a whinny whimper as she tried to scream the words, but to her dismay they did not come. They lingered on her tongue but her lips failed to comply. She clutched the sheets as she scrambled for the words.
"I-I love you." She finally yelled. Her words bounced off the walls and rang in her ears. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by darkness. He had not come, it was only a dream. She sat up to find no evidence of him being there. She was still alone…