Looking For Inspiration Pt 02

Part two

The experience with Tony had forced me to question my approach to looking for inspiration for my stories. It happened by accident. I didn't one day think to myself:

I will join some hook-up sites and see what turns people on.

It was more that I knew what turned me on, but if I wanted readers, I had to write about topics that would fuel a reader's fantasy. I searched for typical female fantasies and typical male fantasies. Before I knew it, I was enrolled on several sex sites, looking at people's profiles. It was market research. That was my reason all along. I never intended my interactions to be any more than research questions. Things like, what turns you on? What is your greatest fantasy? Never in my life did I expect to be getting horny because my stepson was coming on to me.

By Wednesday, I had finished the Doctor-Patient story. I wasn't going to go back onto the site to deliver it to the reader yet. I didn't want to open the can of worms that was messages from my stepson. Instead of delivering the story, I set about writing the next one on my list, which of course, was the husband watching his wife being massaged by a stranger. I decided to call this one 'The Cuckold'. Of course, I still had the problem of not fully understanding the sensations a man goes through as his penis becomes erect.

All this dallying around was introducing a block. I got to the first erection in this second story and just couldn't write anything else.

Come on, Bobbie, pull yourself together. You don't have to reply to Tony even if he has sent a message.

Once I had logged in, I was reminded of the problem with not logging in for a few days. It meant that my Thursday afternoon inbox was as full as my Monday morning. It took me twenty minutes to delete all the cock pictures. I was left with half a dozen messages. One from a reader thanking me and telling me how horny he and his wife found the story I had sent them. Two from readers saying where is the story you promised. I had the Doctor-Patient one ready to send, so that was solved. I could hardly tell the other reader that I had a mental block over erections. I updated them to let them know it was halfway done. There was a couple of requests asking for new stories.

They can wait until Monday.

My clear out was done except for four messages from Tony:

"Where did you go?"

"Have I upset you?"

"I've fucked up, haven't I?"

"I am so sorry. Please forget everything."

Bless him. He sounds genuinely upset.

Now I was feeling bad because I was as much to blame for the whole situation. It was unfair of me to just dash off and leave it so long to come back. I should just have messaged to say that we ought to stop. Instead, I fled the scene, and I had stolen my sexual pleasure. To ease my own guilt, I ran off and let him take on the guilt of both of us. I knew I was going to regret my next message, but I had to try and assure him that everything was OK:

"Awww, bless you. I had to go because your dad really was due home, and I felt bad for leading you on. You haven't upset me, and no, you haven't fucked up. There is nothing to apologise for."

I know I should have added that we can never do it again. But I felt so bad for him that I didn't want to hurt him. I can always tell him that bit later. I didn't log off because I could see that he was currently online. His response came back almost immediately.

"That's a relief. I thought you were going to tell my dad."

And he had the cheek to add another cock picture. This was a picture of it flaccid. Completely soft.

"What I need you to do is to write down how it feels now, then describe the different sensations you experience as it gets hard. Just for my research, you understand."

"I need you to make me hard."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Send me a picture of you naked."

"No! Once it is on the Internet, it could end up anywhere. Go to a porn website."

"They don't get me really hard."

"But they do get you hard, don't they?"

"Only a little. If you want to know all the sensations, I need it to get to the aching stage."

"Aching stage?"

"Yes, where it is so hard it feels like it will burst. Where it actually starts to hurt."

"Get Julie to make you that hard."

"That won't work. We are too used to each other. It isn't thrilling enough."

Part of me understood what he was saying. My husband always said there was nothing like the thrill of the chase. I had noticed that for the last few years, his erections were still pliable, firm, but pliable. A bit like warm plasticine. It had been a while since I could describe his erection as rock-hard. If I wanted rock-hard, I had to use my vibrator. He always said he was OK with that and admitted it was because he was a lazy lover.

"Well, other than naked pictures of me, what will make you rock-hard?"

"I think you already know the answer to that."

And he sent another picture of his soft, limp dick.

Well, it would just be for research purposes. He wouldn't be my stepson. He would be my research assistant.

I stopped and paused. I knew that this could be a perilous journey. I didn't even know if it was illegal. I reassured myself that he was twenty before I even met his father, so it wasn't like we were committing incest or I was grooming him.

"You still there?"

"Yes. I'm thinking."

"Good. Thinking is better than no."

"Let's say we do go ahead and do the research. How do you see it working out?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what I mean. When? Where? A date? Straight down to it?"

"You are the erotic storyteller. What do you think?"

"You come here. We do stuff. You get rock-hard. I write down what you are feeling. Then you go."

"LOL. Once it is that hard, it will want to cum."

"OK, I write down your feelings and sensations, then you masturbate and cum. Then you go."

"Too much planning. How about I come yours. We get naked and just see what happens."

"We could, but I need you to tell me everything you are experiencing. And I need to write it down."

"I could tell you afterwards."

"No. I need it in the moment. I don't want any details left out. I need it for a story."

"If I have to keep stopping for you to write stuff down. I will lose my erection."

I knew what the solution was but, I couldn't bring myself to say it. Just the experience of being openly sexual with Tony was making me wet, and my heart started to pound again.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes. I am trying to pluck up the courage to give you a solution."

"Just tell me. You know you want to."

"If it lets you get rock-hard, I will record the session."

"Oh yes, please."

"But you must talk about how you are feeling, what the sensations are."

"I will."

"There will be no second take. You come here. We get naked. I start recording, and you describe everything. My job will be to get you rock-hard."

"Deal! When?"

"Tomorrow morning at 10:00."

"Really? Wow, I can't believe it."

"I am going now. I will check in on here tomorrow at 9:00 to see if you are still ready to be my guinea pig. Bye."

And I logged off. I didn't feel the same level of guilt as the previous exchange. I was convinced this was just writing research. If I do my job properly, it will all be over by 10:10 in the morning, and I can write about erections with a lot more confidence.

***

I had a restless night. My dream phases swung between full-on nightmares and filthy erotica. By the time I woke up in the morning, the bedclothes were soaking wet.

Tony senior knew I'd had a rough night. "You are working too hard. You must switch off at night and get some rest. You are going to make yourself ill."

"I'm fine. I do my best thinking and get my best inspiration at night."

"I don't know what inspiration you were getting last night. I couldn't tell if you were crying or cumming." And he laughed.

I was trembling as I spoke. "I'm working on a horror scenario."

"Maybe it's too horrific if it gives you night sweats. Did it help you discover what to write?"

"Yes, pretty much. I will have that bit written by dinner time."

We had our usual goodbye kiss, and he was gone. All I could hear was the fast rhythmic thump in my ears of my heartbeat. I started up the computer. I was shaking so much I didn't think I would be able to type anything.

Calm down, take deep breaths. You will look stupid if you faint at 10:00.

I managed to log in, and there was one message:

"It's 9:00. Are you still up for it? I am."

"Yes. See you at 10:00."

And I shut the computer off. I spent the next 45 minutes calming myself down and showering.

The closer the time got to 10:00, the faster my heartbeat thumped inside my ears. I was still deciding what to wear at 9:55. There was no way I was going to just be in a towel when he arrived. Even wearing a silk dressing gown seemed presumptuous. I settled for a t-shirt and a skirt. And that was it. I didn't want to prolong the escapade any longer than was needed. I didn't want to spend an age getting out of my clothes. I just needed to complete my research, but I also had to be dressed respectable enough just in case Tony had changed his mind.

I peeped through the gap in my bedroom curtains just in time to see his car turn into the cul-de-sac. I couldn't hear the car above the incessant thump in my ears. I raced down the stairs so that I could open the front door as he approached. The last thing I needed was him hanging around on my doorstep, waiting for me to open the door.

I could see his approaching shadow through the frosted glass. I swung the door open: "Hi Tony, how are you?" And I hugged him as I normally would.

"I am fine. And you?"

With trembling hands, I closed the door behind him. "Yes. I am good. Before we go any further, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, of course." He was blushing. I knew that I was blushing too because my face was burning. I just wished I was a person that wore make-up. Without foundation, there was no hiding my embarrassment. He reached behind me. "I think we should lock the door." And he twisted the key in the lock. This was the first time I felt concerned about what we were doing.

Suppose he wants to attack me.

I just turned and started to climb the stairs. "Come on, let's do this." And I led the way into the bedroom.

"Where do you want me?"

"First, I need to know that you aren't turned on. I need the whole description from start to finish."

"To be honest, I am too nervous to be turned on at the moment."

I turned on my phone and started recording. "Are you turned on at the moment?"

"As I said. No, I am too nervous."

"Good. Get undressed and lie on the bed. But keep telling me exactly what sensations you are experiencing."

"The thought of doing that has given me the sensation that I am starting to grow down there. I can feel the blood starting to fill my cock."

"Good, keep describing. Take your clothes off quick so that I can capture the image."

In seconds he was naked with a semi-erect penis. I could feel my own erogenous zones starting to gorge with blood as my body increased the production of oestrogen.

"Would you like to touch it?" I swallowed noisily, gulping down the saliva that was starting to fill my mouth.

"Not yet. Lie on the bed."

"My cock is starting to grow and become erect. See how it swings as I move. I can feel my ball bag starting to tighten." His description was perfect as he narrated exactly what the camera was seeing. His erection was now above horizontal. Something that hasn't happened with his dad for a few years.

As he climbed onto the bed, I could see his erection growing. "What are you feeling now?"

"I can feel that my cock is erect, even without looking at it. It will be firm but not rock hard. There is a slight ache at the base of my cock. My ball bag is really tight, and it feels like someone is holding my balls. I have an urge to grab my dick and rub it."

"Will rubbing it make it rock hard?"

"No. Me rubbing it will provide some relief, but it isn't exciting enough to make it rock hard."

Then I asked the question that I think I knew what the answer would be. "What do you need to make it rock hard?"

I assumed he was going to ask me to suck it. After all, that was how this all started. "I need visual stimulation. I want to see you naked, to examine your body. It is starting to get harder now already. Look closely, and you will see the veins start to grow in my cock. The base of my cock is now starting to ache more."

I put the phone down for a moment and turned my back on Tony. I stripped my t-shirt and slid the skirt down over my hips, letting it drop to the floor.

"Nice arse!" Said Tony. I don't know why but I giggled at that comment. He continued, "Now turn around. I am getting there, but it isn't rock-hard yet.

I turned to face him. I could see the veins running along the length of his penis. The edges of the glans were a deep purple, and the tip was glistening as precum emanated from his urethra. I could feel my own juices starting to build inside me.

"I see your foreskin is pulled back. Did you pull it back? No, it retracts itself as the cock grows. I love a shaved fanny. Come closer."

I stood alongside the bed, phone in hand as he reached between my legs. The sensation was something I had never felt before. I knew I needed to sit or lie down if I didn't want to faint. "Is it rock-hard now?"

"Why don't you feel it? Tell me if it is hard."

I moved to the foot of the bed and motioned to him to open his legs. I knelt on the bed between his legs and filmed myself as I reached out to touch his cock. I just prodded it at first, then wrapped my hand around it. "My god, that is rock-hard."

I swirled my thumb around the tip, spreading the pre-cum all over the glans. "What are you feeling now?"

"I have a strange sensation in the soles of my feet. The ache in my cock is almost too painful to withstand. I have a strong urge for you to rub your hand up and down."

"What would happen if I stopped. Do those sensations subside?"

"The sensation in my feet would go because you weren't rubbing my bell-end anymore. But the ache and the urge would stay. They will stay until I cum."

"I have what I need for my research. Did you want me to stay and continue filming as you relieve yourself?"

"What. Fuck! I need you to relieve me. It's the least you can do after getting me into this state."

I reached to take hold of his rock-hard cock again. I grabbed it at the base, and with a squeezing action, I moved my hand all the way up his penis. "Do you want me to wank you?"

"Anything, I just need you to make me cum."

I straddled his right leg and could feel my wetness flow onto his leg. I ground down to relive some of the pressure that was building in my own organs. All the while, I was grinding into his leg, and I masturbated him.

"Can I fuck you?"

"No, sorry, that is a step too far." And I quickened the pace of rubbing myself off against him. And I was masturbating him to the same rhythm.

I was breathing heavily and letting out guttural groans. "I'm going to cum."

I instantly stopped all movement. "Don't shoot onto the bedclothes."

"Where then?"

I didn't answer. I just bent forward and put my mouth over his cock. I didn't have to masturbate him as he was thrusting his hips upwards. After a couple of thrusts, I could feel his hot semen hitting the back of my throat. I was gulping mouthfuls of cum as if I was drinking cold water on a hot summer's day.

"Oh my god, that was the best. I can't believe you swallowed."

Then adrenaline subsided, and embarrassment set in. I couldn't believe what we had done. I climbed off his now wet leg. I scooped up my clothes and dashed to the bathroom. I could hear Tony dressing and then running down the stairs.

His parting shot a shouted, "See you soon." And he shut the front door behind himself.