A note from the author:
This may or may not be a true story. I'll let your imaginations decide.
Thanks for reading.
I continued to type as I heard my wife's soft footsteps in the plush carpet as she entered my study. My desk faced away from the door, but I knew it was her by the cadence of her footsteps, that delicate way she walked when she was trying to sneak up behind me. She came to stand right behind my chair, but remained silent. No doubt she was looking over my shoulder at the words that were flowing out of me and into my laptop.
She stayed quiet, content to let me work, and soon I nearly forgot she was there. The story I was working on tonight was the second of my 'Exploration' pieces, and this part in particular, was one of the steamy sex scenes between the main characters, Charles and Melissa. My fingers danced on the keyboard, and the scene progressed. I lost myself to the story, as I tended to do when the inspiration took hold. In my mind's eye, I as Charles, passionately made love to Melissa.
Susan, my wife and the love of my life, was always understanding. She knew how important my writing was to me, and had always given her full support to my efforts. Even when I told her that I was going to try writing some erotic fiction and gave her an outline of the story, a story I intended to post in the Incest/Taboo category, she gave me nothing but encouragement. There wasn't even a shadow of prudish objection to me writing erotica, and no judgement for writing a story about cousins who fall in love. This unconditional support was one of the many reasons that I loved her.
When I had finished typing the (ahem) climax of the scene, Susan put her hands on my shoulders and nuzzled her nose against my neck how I liked it, just behind and below my ear.
"That's hot." She whispered giving my earlobe a playful nibble. "But you didn't know half of those tricks when you were that age."
I snorted a laugh. "True, true. How ever did you put up with me?"
She pushed on my shoulders, swiveling the chair around to face her. She smiled down at me sweetly. "You were a quick learner."
I looked into her emerald green eyes and, just like Charles with Melissa, I saw a hunger there that I was always eager to satiate. Susan knew full well that writing these scenes got me worked up, and I was starting to believe that it was a turn on for her as well, but this type of writing was a huge departure from my usual work, and I still wasn't one hundred percent sure how she felt about it.
