Procreative Writing

What follows is a tale about authors of erotica. It has been created by the same team that brought you Traffic and Traffic 2.

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This is a true story. The events depicted below happened in the Mid Atlantic in 2024. At the request of those involved, the names have been changed. Out of respect for our readers, the rest has been told exactly how it occurred.

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Steven was frustrated. Not angry, not even grumpy, just low-level frustrated. It was a number of things. His job had been more of a chore than normal. His wife had been busy, both with her work, and with a new group she had just got involved in, something to do with charity, Steven thought. It was cool; feeling she was contributing made her happy. That made Steven happy. And -- when she was around -- the sex had been amazing recently. They still had it as a couple.

Steven and his wife were both grown-ups. They understood about sexual needs, and had come to what many would consider a non-traditional agreement early on in their relationship. Both had spent time being intimate with other people. Separately, most times. Which was fine, good even. It was sexy to talk about it together afterwards. If anything, these occasional wanderings bound them closer together. It wasn't as if they loved each other any less.

But, meeting the right person wasn't so easy. It took time and effort. Often, it felt like too much work for maybe only a fleeting benefit. And unlike many men in his position, Steven preferred to at least get to know his extracurricular partners a little first.

And so he took a different approach. He poured himself into writing. And it was erotica that he wrote. That was a great outlet. Steven's words turned him on, and -- to judge by the feedback he got -- they turned a lot of other people on as well, both male and female. He was good at it. It was a source of pride.

But writing had been a struggle recently. It happened to everyone, but that knowledge didn't make writers' block any easier to deal with, especially when it was such an important activity to him.

Today, Steven had the house to himself. His wife was at an event with her group, giving him the perfect opportunity to write. Or it ought to be. He stared at his phone screen. Words and ideas used to come so easily. What was wrong with him, had he lost it?

With a sigh, Steven sought a distraction. One of the nice things about writing was you met some cool people. Other authors, regular readers. Like in any walk of life, there were some not so great people too, but most on the site he frequented were lovely.

And there was one person in particular, a woman author. She was younger, but the age difference never seemed to be much of an obstacle to communication. She and Steven had hit it off almost immediately. He'd liked her writing, and told her so. Then she'd checked out his stories, and had felt the same. They found they had a shared sense of humor, and -- despite the age gap -- quite a few interests in common.

In one of those amusing coincidences that life sometimes throws at you, they even shared a name, or sort of. Steven often joked that Stephanie could be his female alter-ego.

An unlikely friendship blossomed. And of course they had a shared hobby. Steven talked to her most days. About writing, about the weather -- they lived in the same geographic area -- about life in general. Stephanie was also happily married, so there were always boundaries, but that was fine. Of course discussing erotic stories, and helping each other to write them, were inherently sensual activities, but how Steven and Stephanie viewed each other was essentially just as writing buddies.

Steven checked whether Stephanie had messaged him. Sure enough he had some replies. A new passage from her work in progress story. A photo of something funny she had seen at a store. And one just saying 'hi' and asking how his day was.

Steven typed a reply to the last one. They had few secrets from each other. He explained his mood. Said his wife was not around. Stephanie always provided a sympathetic ear. Steven checked out a few messages from other people and then saw that she had replied.

Hi, I get it. I feel bad for you. 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂 But think, the sex has been great of late. She's a total cutie. And people get busy. I know it sucks, but you can always talk to me 😬.

How like her, Steven thought; ever the optimist. Maybe with someone else, it would have been odd to share details about his sex life, but with Stephanie it felt natural.

Steven wrote a reply:

Yeah, I know. It's all good. It's just, well, a guy can get horny sometimes, right?

Her response was quick:

Of course 🤭. Me too, my husband is away as well. I'm kinda bored. But, maybe I can do something about that. Listen, I'm gonna go offline for a bit. But I'll do something to cheer you up. You'll like it, I promise ❤️❤️❤️.

The hearts were sweet. Steven got what they meant. This wasn't a romantic relationship, but he did feel close to his friend. He was fond of her.

Sure, looking forward to it. Gonna find something to keep me busy, talk later.

Steven had a good idea what Stephanie had in mind. On a few previous occasions, when he had been sick, or a bit down, she'd written something, a private story, just for him. That had always made Steven feel better, feel a little special, cared for maybe. She'd later published some of these works, but with names and appearances changed to protect the guilty.

Steven smiled to himself and thought it was nice to have a friend who shared at least some of his kinks. He had some stuff to do around the house, and needed to get a couple of things at the store. Ninety minutes later, he was back home. Maybe he'd give writing a go. When he pulled out his phone, Steven saw that he had a new message from his friend. Stephanie could write quickly, but he'd not expected to hear from her until the evening.

Curious as to what she had to say, Steven opened the conversation:

Hi, I've been out here for twenty minutes 😡. Thought you'd never come back. And it's kinda cold with what I'm wearing 🥶.

Steven's world started spinning. He must have misread the message. But no, she'd said what she'd said. He went to the window. Across the street was a silver SUV. He'd noticed it when pulling into the drive, but had not paid much attention to it. Why would he?

Steven knew it was the same make and color as Stephanie's car. It couldn't be, could it?

Looking closer, the windshield reflection made it hard to see clearly. Was that some one inside, waving at him? Maybe a hint of blonde hair? No, Steph was clearly pranking him, she did shit like that. And Steven's overactive imagination was simply filling in the blanks. Stephanie was just playing him. Steven chuckled, and relaxed.

And then the driver's door opened and she stepped out. Even from across the road, Steven had no doubt it was her. Petite, skinny, with a mop of unruly, dirty blonde hair, showing signs of lightening at the tips. Even before she looked up at him and waved, Steven knew it would be her face that he saw. Stephanie's face.

Steven's heart seemed to have stopped, and his breathing too. Stephanie looked both ways, and skipped across the street, her high heels clip-clopping, her short raincoat flapping. Flapping in a way that briefly gave a glimpse of black thigh highs. Steven could feel himself trembling, though whether with disbelief or excitement was hard to tell. When the buzzer sounded, he couldn't move for a few seconds, and then rushed to the door.

And there she was, smiling her crooked smile.

Steven was speechless, but Stephanie just giggled and teasingly said, "hi, honey, I'm home."

Steven just stared at her. A look of slight annoyance crossed Stephanie's freckled face. "Well are you gonna let me in, or am I gonna stand here freezing my ass off?"

Steven stepped back as she entered the house, running a finger down his cheek as she passed him. Steven shut the door and turned to look at his friend.

As he did, she unbuckled her coat, and let it fall to the floor. Steven gasped. He had been right about the thigh highs. But they were hold ups, and his friend was totally nude apart from them and her shoes. Steven's eyes wandered slowly up her thin, nylon-clad legs, lingering at her perfectly smooth pussy. Then his gaze ascended her flat stomach. Past her pierced but unadorned belly button, up to the two tiny mounds of flesh above, each tipped with bullet nipples, then it was indeed cold.

It took Steven a little while to look any higher. When he eventually met Stephanie's big gray-blue eyes, she was pouting in mock annoyance. "I'm up here, sweetie."

Suddenly Steven found his voice and uttered a long, drawn out, "Fuck!"

Stephanie smiled at him and her reply nearly gave Steven a heart attack. "Yes please, if you'd like to, of course."

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Steven could feel his desire sky-rocketing, but there was something he had to ask. "But, Steph, your husband...?"

A frown crossed Stephanie's face, and Steven wondered if he had said something wrong. But Stephanie's words made him realize that the problem lay elsewhere. "Well... I don't like to say it.... He... well I found him in bed with my best friend. And when I say in bed, I mean in her."

Steven was shocked. "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, I thought you guys were solid." He didn't know what else to say.

Stephanie smiled a little sadly. "It's OK, we are, it was a... a misunderstanding. I... I don't really want to explain, if that's OK. But... well... I hope I'm not insulting you... it's just..."

Stephanie looked at Steven, her head on one side, hands clasped in front of her nude middle, and rocked from side to side. 'Fuck she'd be amazing in role play,' thought Steven.

Stephanie's voice had also risen an octave, and sounded plaintive. It seemed she really wanted something. "It's just he owes me. And... well there is no one I'd rather..."

She left the sentence hanging and looked at Steven with her big eyes wide open. "You're not cross are you, hun? I'd hate for you to be cross."

"I'm not cross, darlin'. Just... checking. I'm not gonna kick you out, if that's what you're worried about."

Stephanie grinned. "I never thought you'd ask me to leave. I was just worried you might not want to fuck me."

Steven was taken aback by her ultra-direct manner. But pleasantly so. Stephanie had been bold enough to make the first move, to clearly express her desires.

Steven decided to be bold himself. "Well, since you're obviously cold, let me help warm you up."

Moving in close, he enveloped the adorable nude blonde in his arms, his hands immediately finding the small of her back. Slowly, he caressed her soft skin, purposely taking his time, deliberately avoiding the more intimate areas he longed to touch and instead focusing on her back, her shoulders, her arms. Although he felt her body heat rise, she still trembled in his arms.

"You okay?"

"Oh, yes. That feels... lovely."

Taking that as a sign to continue, his hands moved steadily down her sides to her bare hips, now undulating against him.

Their height difference made it awkward, yet he felt himself stiffen from her motions, and by her soft moan and increased pace, he was pretty sure she felt it too.

Their eyes met, truly met, for the first time. Steven had to swallow hard to find his voice.

"Let's move this somewhere more comfortable."

Taking her hand, he guided her upstairs. Once in the bedroom, he again pulled her to him, long enough to give her a passionate kiss before pushing her back on the bed.

"Lay back." His voice was deep, confident. "Open your legs. Let me see you."

Stephanie liked this more forceful side of him. Smiling seductively, she leaned back on the pillows, her flowing blonde hair cascading over her face and shoulders, her firm pert breasts moving with her breathing, nipples hard and pointing right at him.

With a tantalizing slowness, her stocking clad legs parted, offering him the view she knew he wanted of her pink, glistening treasure. "Is this what you wanted to see?"

"Yes." Steven was already undressing. "Touch yourself. Show me how ready you are."

Stephanie complied, slim fingers eagerly reaching between her parted thighs to find her slick cleft, to open her swollen petals, to gather the moisture forming there with her fingertips and spread it around, coating her sex with a sheen of creamy dew.

The effect on him was obvious, especially once he'd removed his jeans. The bulge in his boxer briefs was unmistakable. And enticing. Her mouth watered at the prospect of it.

He caught the twinkle in her eye. "Soon, I promise. But first, I think you know what I want."

"I do."

"Then ask me to do it. Beg me."

Stephanie scooted herself to the edge of the bed, then lay back. Lifting her legs, she spread them as wide as possible, supporting their weight with her arms. "Come here. Taste me. Smell me. Lick me. Please!"

Steven dropped to his knees before her. He'd long dreamt of her scent, and it did not disappoint. It was strong, musky, yet wonderfully feminine, and it made him throb still harder. She was wet, ready, eager. He could easily strip off his boxers and simply plunge into her.

Instead he moved in closer, and slowly rolled Stephanie's hose down each of her stem like legs. His hands then found and moved upwards over her creamy thighs, until his fingers framed her perfectly shaped sex.

His digits parted her delicate folds. From the slickness of her, it was obvious she didn't need the foreplay. But Steven did enjoy giving oral, and also could not help his fascination with exploring those secret, hidden, intimate folds and creases.

Her scent grew stronger as he teased, intoxicating. It called to him. Looking up from between her legs, he found her beautiful oval eyes pleading with him not to keep her waiting.

With a wicked grin, he at last plunged in. Stephanie moaned as his lips made contact, then squealed with delight as his tongue probed and danced along her aching sex. And when at last he found her clit, she cried out with a loud, "Oh, FUCK YES!"

Letting go of her legs, she grabbed his hair. Steven allowed her to guide him, following both her tugs and her thrusting hips, as well as her vocal commands. "Yes! Right there! Oh, fuck, just like that! Steady, steady... oh, god, my clit is throbbing, hun, just... oh, yessss...."

Her words faded into groans of ecstasy, growing progressively louder in his ear.

Suddenly her hips shot up off the bed, and it was all he could do to hold her down as she writhed beneath him, gasping and squealing and giggling uncontrollably as her orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave of pure unadulterated pleasure.

Finally, she pushed his head away, and Steven knew she was now very sensitive.

Taking a moment to finally remove his boxers, he then moved up to lay beside her. Nude bodies now entwined, they kissed and snuggled softly as she slowly recovered from her powerful climax.

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Steven was pleasantly surprised by how comfortable the silence between them felt. No need for awkward small talk or insecure assurances on how well he'd performed so far. Her gentle breathing and the way she folded her slightly sweaty nude body into his, the way her hand held his against her breast, told him everything.

Eventually though, she spoke. "I can feel you poking up against me. Does somebody need some attention?"

Before he could respond, Stephanie moved her hand behind her, finding his cock, helping to guide it more directly between her firm buttcheeks. The heat of her flesh felt amazing along his shaft, and he immediately began to rock himself against her.

Letting go of him, Stephanie now reached between her legs. Her fingers found his scrotum and stroked it with a light, delicate touch that sent shivers through him.

"That's so nice, Steph. Feels amazing."

"It would feel better with you inside me, hun."

He didn't need to be asked twice. It took only a little shifting to position himself at her entrance. He could feel her warmth, her wetness. He could sense her eagerness by the way she pushed her bubble butt back against him.

And then she parted for him, accepting him, wrapping him in a hot, tight embrace that made them both gasp.

Slowly he pumped, each movement opening her more, stretching her, until at last she felt his full length. "So deep, hun, so nice."

Steven held her close and moved slowly, gently. Oh he knew she could take it rough too, that she in fact enjoyed a good pounding.

And they would get there. But he was in no rush, and neither was she. For the moment he savored this slow, intimate embrace, the ability to feel her expand and contract around him. To feel her juices slowly flowing, dripping, coating his balls.

He felt her fingers again, this time along his shaft, teasing as he slid in and out. And while he couldn't see at this angle, he could sense by her movements she was also stimulating her clit with her palm, increasing her pleasure as well.

Their bodies now moved together as one, finding their rhythm, working together equally to give as well as receive. Even their breathing, their sighs and soft moans, were in sync.

The sensation of her felt overwhelming. Steven desperately wanted to just let go, to release the pressure he felt building within. But he was old fashioned, and of course there was male ego involved. He wanted her to cum first and, better still, multiple times before he allowed himself his own release.

Stephanie squirmed beside him, desperately trying to take him deeper, faster. And yet unable to in this position. He knew instinctively what she needed. Pulling his sticky cock from her, he turned her face by the chin to him.

"On your hands and knees. Ass up. Now."

Stephanie's eyes lit up with understanding, and she eagerly moved into position as Steven slipped behind her. She wiggled her ass provocatively, and received a hard spank for her effort. "Oh, fuck!"

Steven smacked her other cheek with equal measure, producing another cry of pain and pleasure, then grabbed her slender waist and guided her back, quickly impaling her. "Oh yes, FUCK, that's deep!"

Not holding back now, Steven pounded her with all his energy, Stephanie meeting each thrust in kind. Tossing her head, she met his eye over her shoulder, her hair now a tangled blonde mess over her flushed and excited face.

"Fuck me, Steven! Fuck me harder! Take me! Oh fuck yeah take my pussy, take it hard, pound it deep, you're gonna make me cum. Over and over, make me...."

Her words became gibberish, her body shaking almost violently under him, and for a moment he worried it was too much, too hard, that he was hurting her.

And then he felt her heat, her wetness, her muscles contracting around his shaft. Saw her head rock back, hair a flurry; heard her cries, her moans, her laughter, and knew she was caught up in a rolling wave of repeated orgasmic bliss.

Steven felt close himself, but held off for the moment; he had one last trick up his sleeve. One he knew would send her reeling.

Reaching down, he gathered her slick juices with his fingers, smearing it around her puckered anus.

"Oh fuck! Steven, what are you....?"

She was tight there, much tighter than the hole he was currently pistoning away at, but after applying a second coating of her natural lubricant, he managed to pop the tip of his thumb just beyond her tight ring.

Stephanie's cries became wails as he renewed his efforts in giving her a strong, memorable fucking. The smell of sex and sweat assailed his nostrils as the wild banshee beneath him met every thrust of his with her own, and it wasn't long before he felt the familiar warning tingles that signaled his arrival at the brink.