Kelly sat at her computer concentrating. Her story had come to a standstill. She knew where she wanted to go with it. Well, sort of anyway. But now she had nothing. The details that had been so clear on the last page were now blank. A tiny voice from her past kept telling her, "Draw on your experiences and memories!"
But she couldn't conjure up any specters from her past or memories that would tie in to where her tale needed to be. Her mind wandered and she started to wonder where that phrase had originated. Draw on your experiences and memories!
Had one of her teachers said it? Had she read it in a book of quotes and passages? Maybe a lover had once whispered it into her ear? She laughed and shook her head. Why would any guy say that to her in the middle of a romantic moment?
This is stupid, she thought to herself. She was at an impasse. At least she was trying to keep it carnal. After all her story was supposed to be an erotic one. Though at this point it could easily go the way of bad notes, or radically changed plotlines. It was too early to tell, but the frustration was mounting.
Kelly shook her head again.
She wasn't going to let a little writer's block stop her. She'd force the story and correct errors later after her creativity was once more unleashed from this terrible stalemate. Maybe it was the environment.
Kelly was house sitting for a friend while she was on vacation. A nice place actually. Very large and modern in it's architecture and yet decorated in a more Victorian style. Or perhaps it was better described as a mildly Gothic décor. Either way it was a house with a sort of split personality. By day the large windows and elegant curtains streamed sunlight into the place reflecting off of the creamy white marble floor tiles.
But by night the large house with its great windows became dark and intimidating. The long shadows of the curtains and furniture during the fading sunlight in the evening lent an uneasy feeling to the place. Even as the automated lights kicked in and the place lit up, there was a strange vibe in the air. One that Kelly was eager to avoid disturbing.
She had been engrossed in overcoming the block when her mind began to feel ill at ease. She turned from the computer and looked around the bedroom. It was large and warmly lit with a beautiful canopy bed in the middle of the far wall. A very comfortable bed as she recalled from the last time she had house sat.
As she thought about it her attention caught a small movement. The philodendron on the nightstand beside the bed. Some of the leaves moved as if a small animal were in the glazed ceramic planter moving around just beneath the leaves and making them twitch.
The thought of a mouse or other pest in the house bothered her. Even more so because it was right next to the bed where she was going to be sleeping in a while. She looked around for something to swat it with if it was a bug. Ewww what a sick thought. It better not be a huge roach. That would totally gross her out and the thought of an insect large enough to make those leaves twitch was quite disturbing.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to grab the plastic wrapped newspaper she'd been gathering from the front yard and approached the plant cautiously. Yet as she got to within four or five feet of the plant the twitching stopped. Tentatively she approached and turned on the light.
With the strong illumination now over the philodendron she could clearly see the base of the planter. There was nothing there. No mouse, no bug, nothing to see. It was quite odd she thought. She looked behind and around the planter but there was nothing there. Could it be something in the substrate? She tapped the side of the round low ceramic planter but all was quiet.
She shook her head again feeling a bit silly. If there was something living in the planter under the soil tapping it would hardly make it come up she reasoned. Hell if she were a small critter trying to hide in the dirt, tapping the container would only make her hide more and be still. She studied the soil but there were no holes or small mounds to indicate that something had burrowed down in the first place.
What an odd distraction. She left the light on and returned to the small desk to try to work more on her story. She would try once again to force the writing. Push past the block and make things flow. She started to type. It was nonsense really. A trick to make her story muse kick in and take over.
But now she heard a sound. A strange and soft humming sound came from behind her. She turned to look but there was nothing in view to make the noise. It seemed to be coming from behind the headboard of the bed. She felt a strange warm sensation that tingled down her back and made her torso shudder involuntarily. When the shudder stopped the soft humming buzz had vanished too.
Maybe it was fatigue? She was feeling very tired and worn down. The story was going nowhere fast, and her frustration might have been playing hell with her senses causing her to hallucinate or perhaps distort reality. She needed a break. Maybe some rest would allow her to start fresh. But not all night. She had work to do. She was always up when others slept. A night owl of sorts. She'd take a short nap and continue her work.
Kelly set the alarm for 2 hours and slipped out of her blue jean shorts. Then took off her tank top and bra and pulled the elastic hair scrunchy away from her ponytail allowing her soft honey brown hair to fall across her shoulders and upper back. She stretched her arms and arched her back working the kinks out from sitting at the desk for several hours.
I could use a masseuse right now, she thought as she rubbed her neck and shoulders and craned her head slowly from side to side. Then she smiled. She could use a man for more than just that she mused.
A lover could both relax her and fuel her creativity later on. Wouldn't that be nice? But right now there was no such person. She wasn't seeing anyone, and even if she had been, she wasn't sure she'd want to bring a stranger or a lover to her girlfriend's house. If they turned out to be an ass, the last thing she'd want was some idiot guy bothering her friend because he thought she lived here.
She frowned.
Why did that sort of thing pop into her mind and spoil this moment? I'm my own worst enemy at times, she told herself. But even so there was a way to get a little stress out and relax again before napping in earnest. She went to her purse and dug out her vibrator.
Maybe a little time with her "magic wand" as she called it, would help put her into a proper mindset. At the very least she could orgasm and get some of her sexual tension out of her system. And after all it could actually be the root of what was cutting off her creative writing gifts.
She went to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. Then mixed in some Crystal lite powder to flavor it before returning to the bedroom. Always keep hydrated her friend Shelly had told her back in college.
Shelly dated a lot as she recalled and told her, if you're well hydrated, you don't need to worry about getting dry at the wrong time, and you can pee afterward, which is always healthy. And even if you're just playing with yourself, a good bit of fluid in your system insures that you will get up in the morning when the alarm goes off and you've got classes to attend, even if you are worn out and relaxed.
She smiled. It'd been a while since she remembered her old college roommate and girlfriend. Shelly had been quite an experience. Some folks called her a slut, and maybe she was a bit overly promiscuous. So what? She'd been a real decent friend and they'd had more than a few adventures together, including some sexual mishaps that had greatly enhanced her own sex life.
Now as she strove to write erotic literature among other things, those experiences with horny guys who'd either been introduced to her or mistaken her for Shelly in the darkness of their dorm room had become the material from which erotic writers of either gender take their inspiration.
As she took off her satin thong panties and sat down on the mattress she recalled those wild party days. Horny guys and gals doing all sorts of stuff to and with each other. She laid back and turned on her vibrator then rubbed it with a small bit of easy glide lubricant. She closed her eyes and turned off the lights.
The buzzing sex toy tingled as it made contact with her sensitive warm skin. She brought it closer to her labia and pressed it to the hood of her clitoris.
She jumped a bit. It was always a greatly anticipated moment. That first magical touch that filled her with pleasure in an almost electric way.
She remembered the orgy as she had called it. Shelly had simply referred to it as a six-pack party. Three guys and three girls. But it was originally a study group. Only someone had triggered a fire alarm in one of the buildings beside the campus library.
