Robert Clark Suffering from writers block Love doesn't always have to be so complicated 
 
 
   
 Suffering from writer’s block, Eric sat amongst his peers eager to continue his erotic novel. He had a friend, Jake was his name, who sat next to him and would pitch ideas. Today was a slow day. He was staring at two sentences on Microsoft Word. He drummed his fingers absentmindedly. One of his classmates, a strong willed girl on the brink of womanhood, crept up behind him to read over his shoulder. Unaware, Eric kept typing. At first she was appalled at the vulgarity. Reading on, her eyebrows scrunched and her jaw dropped in disgust. She was debating whether or not to call Eric out on his vile pornography, but decided to wait and see what else he had to write. She read on and her heartbeat grew more frantic. The words weren’t just nasty, they were sensual and seductive. She swallowed the dry lump in her throat wondering how she could be so dry and so wet at the same time. She crossed her legs in a weak attempt to stop the sensation, and started swaying, grinding her legs against each other as she changed her mind. She bit her lip. She wanted her satisfaction. She deserved it didn’t she? After all she’d been a good girl ever since her parents walked in on her. Eric could feel heavy breathing on the back of his neck. He winced hoping to God it wasn’t the teacher behind him. He slowly turned around. “Shannon?” she flinched. “Oh hey, umm, uh wow…” Shannon turned around blushing, and walked away awkwardly. She quickly dismissed herself to the restroom. Eric sat there wondering what just happened. He decided to go talk to her.  He knocked on the restroom door. “Shannon?” He waited. He was just about to go back to class when the door burst open. The last thing he saw was a swirl of blonde hair before she was in his face, kissing him. “Wha… What are you doing?” “Shutup”, she answered. She yanked him in without bothering to check the halls. She pulled him into the spacious handicap stall and slid the bolt home. Eric’s heart was beating eratically in his chest as she sat him on the toilet and danced on his lap. She ran her fingers through his hair and raked them down his back. She dug her tongue down his throat, reaching deeper, as if there was a prize at the bottom. She rocked back and forth on her hips, grinding her clit into his rock solid dick. She pressed his face against her chest and he was only too willing to oblige. He ran his tongue between her breasts, kissing her sharp collarbone. He squeezed her ass with one hand and tugged on her hair with the other. She threw her head back, gasping, and he went for her neck. Sucking, kissing, licking. They were getting so worked up that it was difficult to tell between a lick and a sweaty kiss. “Is that all you got?”, she chided.   He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, throwing her against the wall. She set herself down on the handicap railing as he worked his way into her pants. They were soaked. She closed her legs and leaned over to whisper in his ear “Fuck me like a man”. Eric’s eyes went wide, and his smile even wider. He dropped his pants as she worked hers halfway down. He helped her with the rest. He pressed his sweaty chest against hers. She constricted her legs around him. He held her face in the palm of his hand, looking for something. She stared back, not knowing why he was pausing. He closed his eyes and kissed her. There was no lust this time. No frenzied desire; only passion. He kissed her gently, slowly, ardently. She understood his intent now. She embraced him in her arms, her hands resting on his rigid shoulders. She wasn’t just giving him her body anymore. It all became something more. His touch carried meaning. Her sighs carried emotion. Not lust. Love. He pulled away and for the first time, she really saw his face. She was absorbed in the detail, her eyes flitting from each freckle to blemish. The corners of her mouth started acting of their own accord. She didn’t even notice as the candid smile sneaked onto her face. Eric smiled back. It was contagious. They were suddenly enveloped in something more than just irreverent longing. Each knew what the other felt. No words needed to be said. He pressed his smile firmly against hers, and his heart even more so.  He breathed in her flowery scent. It swept through his lungs and rushed into his blood. It engulfed his heart and he felt weightless. If sunshine had a scent it would be this, he thought. He was caught up in the adrenaline, his heart pumping like a piston, and his veins stood out as they struggled to contain the torrent of blood. Through his smile he was breathing hard. Whether he was short of breath, or he just couldn’t get enough of her essence, was impossible to tell. His fingers trickled down her back like wet paint, tracing lines of sweat down her arching spine. Shoulders trembling, she painted patterns of her own, drawing figure eights on his jaw with her criss-crossing fingers, as she weaved her other hand aimlessly through his thick, coarse hair. Her insides were aflame with jittery butterflies, their fluttering wings sending tingling sensations all along her ribs. She would be trembling of not for the warmth of him, emanating from his wild heart. She stopped to listen for a moment, to hear its thundering pulse. She only heard one heart. Puzzled, she cocked her head. She took his hand and placed it on her chest. In turn, she rested hers on his. She smiled at the realization. “Feel that?” His smile widened. Their hearts were beating with the same cadence. They kissed. Their lips the instrument of a silent song. 
 
 
 Publication Date: April 24th 2014 https://www.bookrix.com/-robertclark