The Elusive Muse

I swear. It's like just when you're about to sneeze and someone says bless you, and then you can't sneeze. That's how it feels to have a fun story rattling around in my head that I can't write. My biggest problem is I always get struck all the way down to my toes with an idea, something hot that I want to elaborate on when I'm somewhere like in a full car with my family, headed out to dinner.  And then by the time I'm alone, later, in a dark room with all the time and privacy I need, it's gone. I can completely remember the idea and what my thoughts were centered around, but the actual muse, the hotness, the thing that got my juices flowing has ceased. And then it's just an empty shell of an idea. And when I force myself to sit and write it, it comes out so shitty that I am doubly frustrated, because not only do I hate bad writing, but I feel like I've also murdered a really great story, as well.

So instead of writing the actual story (which I seriously would if I could), I will write what thought came to me today to want to write it.

There was a time, as an adult I'd moved home with my parents to regroup and get back on my feet monetarily as well as emotionally. And back then, I was so into aol chat rooms, irc, and the like. I made a lot of internet friends and had lots of cyber and phone sex.

One friend in particular lived in California and he and I talked online quite a bit. He was a very evolved individual, after having years and years of therapy. He really helped me work through a lot of family and personal type issues, as well as phone sexing me up. He was one of those people you want to tell all your darkest secrets to. (and he somehow made you feel okay with them)

Well, he had a girlfriend (sub) who was very open-minded and into good fun. He would call me up, when they were mid scene and start telling me what he was doing to her. (while I'm masturbating furiously) I could hear him paddling, flogging, or spanking her. I could hear her moans and grunts and begging. He'd tell me things like "her ass is so red right now. And her pussy is so wet, it's practically running down her legs" if she wasn't gagged, she'd say things to me too. She'd tell me how good he was fucking her or tell me she's going to cum soon and I should with her (I'm so auditory, hearing someone begging to cum and them wanting me to cum, too, is a pretty darn good trigger)  The fun thing is, my begging and moaning and cumming turned them on, too. There were times he told me she'd ask if I was around when they were about to play, because I was so fun to (albeit virtually) have around.

Although I am not a voyeur or exhibitionist, the anonymity of being on the phone versus in person with them was very freeing. I loved hearing him fuck her, spank her, make her cum. I loved feeling myself getting close to an orgasm and begging permission, only to hear her also begging him, knowing my impending orgasm triggered hers.  It was like the least self-conscious three-some I could ever imagine.

So thank you Dom from Cali who helped me come to terms with my alcoholic mother and promiscuous past. Thank you to his sub who made me realize that two girls and one guy can be really super hot (and not uncomfortable or jealous or competitive).  And maybe soon that lightning will strike again and I can capture that story that was gone before it was written.