The writer sat slumped in front of his computer, his head in his hands. "What happened? I used to be able to churn out stories by the dozen, but now I just sit all day and nothing comes! It's been 2 years since I even had a glimmer of an idea. I can't take much more of this!"
He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and heard a female voice say, "I'm sorry, love. "
"Who's there?" He asked, turning around. He saw an attractive young woman standing beside him, her long brown hair flowing out over the bathrobe she wore. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't remember where he'd seen her before. She smiled and sat down on the bed behind him.
"You don't recognize me? I'm your muse - you know, the source of your inspiration. I'm here to help you out of your writer's block, if you're willing"
"You're my muse? I thought that you were some kind of an abstract concept, an anthropomorization of the process of inspiration."
She shook her head, sending ripples through her long hair. "I think that you've been talking to too many academics." She said, smiling. "We are quite real - we just don't do public appearances very often. This is a special case however - the link between us has broken, and must be fixed, or you will never break out of this writer's block. "
"What do you mean 'our link'?" He asked, looking puzzled.
" When a muse is born, he or she forms a bond with a human who is born at the same time. This bond is what artists draw their inspiration from."
"So you and I are the same age? Time certainly has treated you better than I." He said, looking meaningfully at her lovely figure.
"That depends on your point of view, handsome." She said, looking at him suggestively. "Anyway, occasionally an artist draws too much from the bond, and it eventually snaps. That's what happened to us."
"So how do we fix it?"
She looked at him, and he could see desire smoldering in her eyes. "That requires us to get rather... intimate." She said, opening her robe.
"Are you saying that you want to have sex with me?" he asked, unable to quite believe what he was seeing.
"I do want that very much, love, but I was thinking of a more permanent solution, one that's a bit more intimate." She said, discarding her robe completely, and lying down on the bed.
"How do you get much more intimate than that?" he asked, confused.
She smiled at him, and the look of intense passion she gave him took his breath away. "It's simple, love. I spread my legs wide, like this." She said, spreading her legs in demonstration. "Then you get between them and crawl in here," she said, reaching one hand down to part her vaginal lips, indicating where she meant. "And climb through into my womb, where you spend the next nine months gestating. I guarantee that the resulting link will be unbreakable. It will also be the best nine months of your life."
"What?! That's impossible! There's no way I can fit inside you!" She sat up again, answering him, "Of course you can, love. You forget that I'm not a human woman. My magic makes it quite possible to take you inside me. In fact, I'm looking forward to it." Indeed, she seemed to become aroused just thinking about the prospect.
"You're really perverted, did you know that?" He asked, smiling. The idea was beginning to excite him, despite its strangeness.
"Of course I am, as you should know. After all, who inspired all those stories that you hide from everyone else, hmm? So, will you do it?"
"I think I'll have to ask for a little more proof of your identity before we go that far, my dear."
"I think that can be arranged." She said, as she pulled him to her and kissed him full on the lips. As they kissed, he felt flashes of inspiration flit through his consciousness, but they quickly faded when she released him. He helped her remove his clothes, then she pulled him to her with lustful intent. Their lovemaking set stories galore sparking through his brain, but he made no effort to hold onto them, concentrating instead on his incredible partner. She made sex into the highest art form, bringing him to heights of passion he had never known existed. It was absolutely exquisite. He also discovered that she sang when she orgasmed. While he found it slightly disconcerting to hear his sexual partner sing in choral harmony while they were making love, it was also the most beautiful sound that he had ever heard, and it inspired him to try hard to keep her singing.
Finally exhausted, he lay in her arms as she spoke, "So, are my credentials in order?"
"Most certainly, my lady. I'm quite satisfied that you are indeed who you claim to be. I can't say that I'd expected my muse to be particularly interested in sex, though." He said, chuckling.
"Why not? After all, you humans constantly are - why do you think that we're any different?"
"I never really thought about it before - as I said, I didn't really believe you existed. You've certainly convinced be about that." He said, then paused to look at her as he continued, "You do realize that you've absolutely ruined my sex life, don't you? There's no way that any mortal woman could match that performance."
"Good. You're mine, and I want it to stay that way." She said, a fierce look in her eyes. Her voice turned hopeful as she spoke, "Does this mean that you'll go through with it then?"
"On one condition."
"What is that?"
"That you agree to marry me when I come back out."
"Done!" she exclaimed, pulling him to her for a deep kiss that set off metaphorical fireworks inside his head. Her enthusiasm surprised him nearly as much as his impulsiveness in asking, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. When she broke the kiss, she said, "Now it's time for you to keep your end of the bargain. Drink up, it will help you adjust afterwards." She said as she guided his mouth to her right breast.
He drank deeply of her milk, reveling in the wonderful taste. All too soon, he had emptied both of her breasts, and he licked the last of her sweet milk off of his lips as he knelt between her thighs. She spread her legs at his touch, and he lowered his head to her opening, kissing, licking and gently nibbling at her sensitive areas, causing her to burst into song. He continued his caresses, working his hands gently into her opening, which easily stretched to accommodate them. He worked his arms around inside of her, caressing her from the inside as he pushed them deeper inside. His head soon followed, and he paused with it just inside her opening to plant a ring of kisses all around the circumference of her vagina. Her movements and the dramatic increase in the volume of her singing told him how much she appreciated this, and he continued to lick and kiss her inner passage as he crawled deeper inside. Briefly, he wondered what the neighbor would think of all the singing, then dismissed the thought - after all, he wasn't going to have to deal with them anytime soon. He slowly crawled deeper inside her, her cervix parting easily at his touch, admitting him to her womb. As his head emerged into her womb, he felt it enveloped by a warm liquid. Trusting that she would keep him safe, he took a deep breath, inhaling a lungfull of the stuff. He found that he could breathe easily, the fluid somehow providing the oxygen he needed. With one last thrust, he pulled the rest of his body through into her womb. He heard her singing outside reach a crescendo, then subside, and he knew without looking that the way in had closed behind him. He didn't mind, floating peacefully inside her womb. He felt the ideas flowing through him in such a torrent that he didn't even try to grasp them, just let them settle into his subconscious for later retrieval. Soon, he heard her voice singing a lullaby, soothing him off to sleep deep in the womb of his muse.
She continued singing until she was certain that he was asleep, then sat up, sighing with relief as she felt the link between them snap back into place. Looking down at her swollen belly, a secret smile crept over her face. She was large, but no one who saw her would thing that she was carrying anything other than a baby inside her. They certainly wouldn't believe that the bulge was a full-grown adult! "That will be our little secret, love." She murmured as she walked over to his desk and sat down. She opened a new document on his computer and began to write. It was wonderful to be able to write again, after such a long time of writer's block. The link worked both ways, after all. She paused to look down at her belly once more, thinking of the muse that now slumbered within her, recharging himself from their shared wellspring of ideas. When he came out again, she would have lots of stories to tell him. With a smile, she turned back to the computer and resumed writing.
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