Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Me And My Muse - 3 - A Muse Refused By Jeremy Spencer Copyright 2004

   All rights reserved.  This story may be downloaded for personal use, but
any posting to a website, free or otherwise, is strictly forbidden.  If you
have found this story somewhere other than my page
(/~Jeremy_Spencer/) or at Storiesonline, please let me
know by filling in a feedback form at either place.

   Author's Note: The following is a fictional story.  In it, fictional
characters have hot, sweaty, unprotected, fictional sex.  They live in a
fictional world without fictional diseases.  You do not.  Be careful.  All
characters in this story are old enough to know what they're doing.  Now,
on to the show!

   *****

   "Jeremy," her voice tickled in my ear and despite my best efforts I felt
myself shiver in response.

   "What is it?" I asked, trying to sound as businesslike as possible under
the circumstances.

   "I just thought you might need a little more inspiration," Erin said
throatily, her hands gliding around to my front, dangerously close to the
bulge in my pants.  Once again my prick was rock hard in my pants and I
sighed in resignation.  This had gone on long enough and something had to
be done.  I grabbed my muse's arm by the wrist, knowing I had to stop this
now or lose another day of writing to her sexual advances.

   "Enough," I said tersely, startling Erin with my harsh tone.

   "I'm sorry," she said quickly, her eyes dropping to the floor.  "I just
thought...  I thought maybe you wanted to...  don't you want to?" she asked
pitifully, her arousal evident to both my eyes and nose.  Her thick musk
permeated the air around us and it was a struggle to retain control of
myself, so strong was the urge to throw her over a chair and have my way
with her.

   "Erin," I warned.  "I've talked about this before.  I love it when
you... inspire me, but it's too much.  What am I supposed to do with all
the inspiration if I don't have time to write?" It was true, she and I had
spent so much time rutting together that my output had dropped to nearly
nothing.

   "But..."

   "But nothing.  I was more prolific before you came around.  You're
marvelous and sexy, but I wonder if maybe you've been a bit of a failure as
my muse."

   "What!" she cried.  Erin appeared close to tears once again, fearing a
harsh punishment.  She started to protest, but I cut her short with a wave
of my hand.

   "Just...  just leave me be for a few hours.  I need to be able to
concentrate.  I have to write," I begged her.

   "I'm just trying to help," she sulked.

   "I know."

   Erin still stood there, so I rose from the desk chair and dragged her to
the door to my study.

   "But..."

   "Just a few hours," I repeated, pushing her into the hall and shutting
the door behind me as I returned to my work.

   It was scarcely more than thirty minutes before I heard the door to my
study open and I once again felt Erin's hot breath on my neck.

   "Are you busy?" she asked.

   I nearly jumped out of my seat as I felt her hand snake around to cup my
balls.  I groaned as I felt my prick once more begin to swell under her
delicate touch.  Damn the woman, damn my muse!

   "I said a few hours," I said as menacingly as I could.  Erin was
completely naked now, kneeling on the floor beside the desk, her pussy pink
and swollen with arousal.  She pouted, dipping a slender finger into her
wetness and placing it beneath my nose.

   "Can you tell?" she asked plaintively.  "Can you tell how much I want
you?"

   I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block her out, but the sensations
were too much.

   "No!" I roared as I stood above her.  "Out.  Out out out!  I said a few
hours, and here you are thirty minutes later."

   "I...  I just want to inspire you," she said, her eyes begging for me to
take her on the thick carpet of my study.  I was tempted, of course I was,
but again I fought the urge.

   "Why...  why don't you just disappear?" I asked in exasperation.  To my
amazement, and I had thought myself incapable of surprise, Erin turned from
me and vanished without a word.

   I looked for her, but was able to see no sign of where my muse might
have gone.  She had simply disappeared, true to my request.

   Joyous at my newfound luck and blessed solitude, I returned yet again to
my desk.  I had somehow managed to fill half a page with new characters and
story ideas when I thought I felt something brush lightly against my arm. I
turned sharply but could see nothing.  Shaking my head in confusion I
attempted to continue writing, but had the distinct impression I was being
watched.

   I threw down my pencil, scanning the room for Erin but saw nothing.  As
I stood there I again felt something move against me and to my shock I
watched as my zipper magically lowered and I felt a hand on my cock.  I
looked down, certain I would see Erin kneeling before me, blinking my eyes
in surprise as I saw nothing.

   I nearly screamed as I felt a pair of lips circle the head of my cock, a
wet tongue lashing against the soft head as my prick quickly swelled to
attention.

   "Erin," I cried out.  "Where are you?" Suddenly she reappeared and I saw
her, as I had imagined her to be, naked in front of me, my prick captured
between her pink lips.

   I jerked back in surprise, falling down heavily on the sofa.

   "What?" she asked innocently, but I could see a twinkle in her eye.

   "Don't do that!" I shouted, feeling my heart pounding in my chest.  "You
could have given me a heart attack."

   "I'm sorry," she groused.  "You said to disappear and I did."

   "You knew damn well what I wanted," I accused.  "Now come on," I said,
grabbing her roughly by the arm.  "I want you to leave and stay out there
until I come for you.  Now get out."

   Once more I led my protesting muse to the study door, closing and this
time locking the door behind me.  I shook my head in astonishment.  Never
before had I met someone whose sexual hunger seemed to run so deep.

   I sat in front of my notebooks, trying in vain to regain my
concentration.  Finally I threw down my pencil and paper and lay down on
the sofa.  This proved futile, as the cushions were now so infused with the
scent of our lovemaking that only a long airing on a warm summer day would
rid them of our smells.

   Frustrated, I began pacing back and forth.  I have no idea how long it
had been since I had last forced out my muse, but soon I began to hear a
plaintive cry from the kitchen.  I stopped, trying to understand the words
I was hearing, but was unable until I finally opened the door.

   "Jeremy," Erin called softly.  "You have to eat something.  You need
food."

   I didn't answer, instead choosing to remain silent as my muse repeated
her entreaty time and again.  Finally my stomach rumbled in sympathy to her
cries and I slowly walked into the kitchen, stopping abruptly as the scene
in front of me came into focus.

   "Finally," Erin breathed from atop the table, where she lay,
spread-eagled and naked, her pink inner flesh open to my eyes.

   "What are you doing?" I asked.

   "I'm what's for lunch," she giggled.  "I thought you could start off
with a piece of my pie, then perhaps a muffin or two, or you could
always..."

   "Stop it.  Get down.  Put some clothes on," I said curtly.  Erin looked
hurt, a surprised look on her face as I spun around to leave.

   "Where are you going?" she called after me.

   "Out," I said.  "I'm going for a walk.  If you behave when I return I'll
just forget the whole thing, but if not..."

   "What?" she asked, her eyes shining brightly.  "Will you...  will you
punish me again?" she asked, remembering the time I had tortured her for
hours, tied to the bed with silk scarves and teased with a feather.  I
watched in amazement as the sudden memory caused her neck to flush and her
pink nipples crinkle in anticipation.

   "Something like that," I said vaguely.

   "Oh goody!" she squealed, clapping her hands in excitement.  "I love it
when you punish me."

   "Not this time," I said in a low voice.  "Not this time."
   End (?)