Old Ladies, Thongs & Swimming Pools

He was able to see the failings with his earlier story concept clearly. He'd tried to dance around it before, trying to resist what he knew was true, but yeah... his story had gotten dull. Boring. The classic sci-fi hero, the plucky, snarky girl he loved, the villainous space pirate bad guys, the bitchy, hard-ass Governess who doesn't like him but respects the results he gets. No... it just wasn't working anymore. The ongoing story was in a tailspin, and if he had any hope of pulling the careening aircraft back, he had to do it now. And to do that, he had to shake things up. Deleting large swaths of his story, his fingers began working the keyboard. He didn't realize hours had passed until Molly came up behind him, rubbing his shoulders and moving her lips to his ear.

"Hey, hon..." she began breathily. "What do you say we head to bed... I haven't been giving my hubby the attention he deserves, and I bet you really need something special..."

The idea resonated with him. This is what he'd been wanting from the start. But something had changed... he was writing now, for the first time in months, and he didn't want to slow down. He didn't want to lose the inspiration.

"Molly..." he began, turning his attention to his wife. "I appreciate it. I really do. And any other time I'd jump at it, but... I'm finally writing! I don't want to interrupt this!" he said excitedly.

"Oh!" she said, seeing he was making progress. Taking her hands off of him, not wanting to upset his mojo, she backed away. "Okay! Sorry! I don't want to interrupt!"

"Sorry, hon!" he replied with a smile. "Maybe tomorrow night!"

"Oh, no problem! It was you I was worried about, but if you're finally back at it, don't let me get in the way!" she said supportively, not thinking twice that her husband was turning down sex. He didn't really think about it in that way either.

He was just happy to be writing again!

* * * * *

Over the next two weeks, Greg made more progress in his writing than he had in the last six months. He was able to sit down at his computer as soon as Molly left for work and just write, and when his wife got back home, he'd still be at it. Molly would walk up behind him, kiss him on the top of the head, and leave him be, not wanting to slow him down.

The key for him was to delete a lot of his progress. He'd gotten himself into a spot where choosing any direction forward seemed painfully dull, so instead of trudging along, he deleted large swaths of the story he'd been crafting for years, instead pivoting and taking things in brand new, fresh directions. And doing so had really rescued this story; because of this fresh angle, the writing felt effortless.

These were exciting times.

He had a new pep in his step. When he'd step away from writing to take a break, or eat lunch, he'd combine that with working on some task around the house, not wanting to let himself fall behind on building up their new home. And where before, nothing was going right, suddenly, everything was working. Where nothing was fitting together previously, things were suddenly just locking into place. Every task he worked on he was able to complete, instead of leaving them all unfished as before. That block in his mind that was seemingly holding him back was gone, and suddenly, everything was going smoothly. This was closer to what he'd been hoping for when he got married. This was something resembling marital bliss.

He wasn't blind to the fact as to what event had spurred these breakthroughs, shocking his system and resetting his overworked mind. He didn't dwell on the events of that afternoon with Doreen, the biggest mistake of his life. He of course felt regret every time he did think about it, but he only did it to re-examine his mistakes enough to figure out how to not make them again. He didn't ignore what he'd done, but he did his best to just move on. Don't wallow in misery and regret. Just move on and vow never to be so stupid. Of course, actually making progress on his writing provided a nice distraction. He just didn't dwell too much on what had spurred all that progress.

He was proud at how well he'd done at keeping the promise he'd made to himself, to move on from what happened. To not let what Doreen said and did affect him. Change him. Not only did he keep looking forward, he protected himself. Opting to spend a little money, he hired a lawn service to take care of the yard, at least for the very immediate future until he bought a mower for his own. He didn't tell Molly about this extra expenditure, not wanting to invite the questions about why he wasn't borrowing Doreen's lawn mower anymore. He didn't want to give himself any room for mistakes. Luckily, his job was an indoor one, and staying inside meant hadn't seen a hint of Doreen since that fateful day. He didn't think much about her either, except in a very abstract manner, a dreaded, vague, villainous figure of his past... more than an actual person with a mind and body and really big tits.

He was proud of his progress, at how much of what happened with Doreen didn't change him for the worse. In fact, he used that mistake as a way to spur positive change. He was being a better homeowner. A better writer. A better husband. That old bitch had made so many proclamations about his future, and luckily for him, none of them were true.

However, he hadn't fully resolved the intimacy issues he and Molly had been having lately. It had almost been a month since the last time the young couple had had sex, and even despite Greg's colossal mistake with Doreen, he hadn't had the chance to recommit to his wife in that way. It wasn't a deliberate choice. It was just... he was just so invested in his writing that he ended up devoting most of his energy to that. Not that he didn't want to have sex with his wife, or that he didn't have plenty of opportunities to do just that. In fact, Molly was clearly getting antsy about the fact that they hadn't had sex for weeks. She was acting more amorous and getting more and more touchy-feely with him, making herself available to him whenever she could, making it clear without saying it that she was hungry for her husband's loving touch whenever he was up for it. But he had finally captured the magic in his writing, and he wasn't about to let it go. Molly was understanding as always, and he deeply appreciated this small, temporary sacrifice of her own pleasures in order to allow him to pursue his passions. Once he was able to fully work through this creative burst, and it was all out of him, then he'd make it up to her. He assured her of that.

And this temporary abstinence wasn't exactly easy on his part either. He was feeling the same hunger for sex that his wife was. That being said, he found that having that added pressure bubbling beneath the surface helped him in his writing. Being too comfortable made his writing lazy, so having this added physical need got his blood pumping, which spurred on his creative juices.

But sometimes the benefits of keeping himself in this state were getting outweighed by the cost. Being a young married man in his prime, not having that pressure release would get him backed up pretty fast, and he'd find it hard to focus on the task at hand. These moments typically happened when Molly was at work and he was alone, or late at night when she was already asleep. Despite Molly's many attempts to spur him into bed, they were still not quite lined up schedule-wise. When she wanted it, he was in the groove writing. When he wanted it, she wasn't available. But unlike Molly, he was able to find an outlet for these desires.

After everything that had happened, he knew it wasn't healthy to let himself get so worked up without an outlet. That's when mistakes are made. Therefore, sometimes, he blew off some stress and watched a little bit of porn. He was never the biggest porn guy, so this was somewhat new territory for him, but he was able to find what he needed pretty quickly. Whether it be some smoking hot MILF in a bikini, or an older woman with absolutely massive tits, or a mom with a big round ass that knew how to get down and dirty, he found himself getting enough to slake his needs across this clearly wide expanse of internet pornography. He even watched that movie "Tit-tanic", that one with a group of hot older women on a cruise poaching all the young studs away from their girlfriends and wives. It was legit enough to star actual known actresses, and the sex scenes were more than enough to get the job done just as good as any porn. And once all that was out of his system, he was able to get back to work with a clear head, the pleasure coursing through his veins spurring creative new ideas out of his brain and onto the page.

Things were clearly going pretty well. He wasn't going to fall into the same trap and make the same mistakes. He'd protected himself perfectly so far, and he was happy with the results. Happy that he saw potential to actually move on and live his life with Molly. Happy that the events of that day weren't a cursed chalice weighing him down, influencing his actions. If anything, this mistake had highlighted what could go wrong, He didn't feel negatively impacted by what he'd done with Doreen, feeling no lingering after effects from the poison that she'd implanted in his system. He didn't feel changed. In fact, that mistake had only renewed his passions going forward, highlighting what was really important.

That passion really showed in his writing.

He still remembered the brainstorm he'd had that had spurred his progress into the stratosphere. Working on his grand tale, with the brave hero, the girl he loved, the bad guy space pirates, and the bossy Governess, he quickly realized that the spine of this story was way too similar to hundreds of other stories. He had to pivot away now or get stuck in this rut for good. He had to take some new, bold chances and find a new, more exciting angle to this tale. And his mind kept circling back to the Governess character. What if she had a bigger part here? The most inessential character was clearly the love interest, as she was usually somewhat removed from the action... what if he took advantage of that fact? What if the story wasn't actually as much about her? What if the story really frames it around her, and her relationship with the hero, at least at first, and her presence is there throughout, but she's not a big part of the ongoing story? He'd seeded her through some of his previous stories in this universe, setting her up to be the hero's love interest. What if she ended up being a decoy, a background character in the hero's adventure? And in the vacuum left behind in the story, insert the Governess in her place and slowly feature her more. Build her up slowly. And instead of making her some boring old crone like he'd originally envisioned, make her a vivacious, lively, sexy older woman. Stories like that were really starting to stand out to him. And on top of that, make her secretly in league with the villains. Yeah! And instead of the tension between her and the hero being the classic "boss vs. rogue agent" tension, make it a sexual one instead. Make part of her bad attitude be the fact that she wants the hero to herself, and a lot of these schemes are part of her grand plan to seduce him to her side. The bad side. The wicked side. She resents his effective measures at fighting the bad guys, because it keeps spoiling her plans to fuck him. She treats him like trash because he took way too long to let his eyes wander her direction. He dislikes her due to her shitty treatment of him every time they interact, but his dislike is clearly a mask for some deep-seeded attraction towards her. Yeah... this could work, even though he'd given no buildup to it to this point. But he could go back and thread it back in. Yeah, this could work. This could be the real story. Make the backbone of this story not be the boring old love story in a sci-fi setting, but one centered on simmering sexual tension hidden beneath the surface between these two opposite characters. And what if in the end... oh fuck, what if instead of the boring happy ending... the hero succumbs to the villain? The hero succumbs to the Governess and becomes her thrall to do as she wants. Fuck! A force for good giving in to someone motivated by evil, wicked intentions. That's... that's really good, right? That's something! That's not the stuff you see every day. That's the stuff that could make this story pop! That could send this grand tale rocketing forward in a ton of interesting ways.

The Governess... she was what he needed. This was the character he needed to shake up this story, to take a different angle on it. And once he began taking the story in this direction, it all came pouring out of him. He was merely the vessel transcribing it as the story almost wrote itself. From being a poorly-sketched background character, the Governess had become completely three-dimensional. An older woman who outwardly portrayed friendliness, enough to have risen to her current position, but when behind closed doors her demanding attitude and iron will were exposed. Most characters didn't see it, but as her disobedient employee, the hero often saw her darker edges, leading him to be totally okay with pissing her off every chance he could. He saw her as a by-the-book boss who got pissed off whenever he went outside the rules. But despite being an extremely perceptive guy, even he didn't realize that his true nemesis was right in front of him.

This was really working! Filling out all the details, the Governess was now transcribed so clearly that the reader could see her as Greg did. They could see her blonde hair, slightly graying. Her friendly yet calculating face, her warm smile and raised eyebrow hiding her true intentions. Her big, round amazing ass, because if she were to tempt our hero, it was important for her have that weapon, a juicy rear end that shook side-to-side when she walked. And it became important to note at some point along the way that she was wearing a teeny-tiny pink thong, as the hero walked in on her at one point and got a teasing glimpse of what she kept hidden behind that tight, long, metallic blue cloak of hers, a hint of what was beneath the surface. And in the same way that cloak clung to her round, shapely ass, it also just happened to mold to her gigantic tits. He recognized that giving a character like this such massive breasts might not be the most progressive idea in the world. But to really sell the crass, dark, smutty heart of this twisted tale, her having such a hot body was a literary tool used to symbolize her wicked sexual potential. A twisted, nasty portrayal that could only be inserted if it paid off in the end. And this one would definitely pay off. The hero and the evil older temptress would definitely be having sex in the end of this story. No doubt.

It only made sense for it to end that way.

* * * * *

The married man was so proud at how little his encounter with Doreen was lingering with him. That's not to say it didn't affect him. Because yeah, that mistake had crystallized some things inside him, and the shock of everything had shaken out some of the cobwebs that had been plaguing him for months now. He knew it might sound bad, but could he be blamed for wanting to take some of the positives even out of such a major negative? You learn from your mistakes, and that's what he was trying to do.

For a time, he was happy, savoring how much progress he was making in writing and how smoothly things were going at him. Molly never sensed anything amiss, and again, she was happy with how satisfied Greg was.

Still, they weren't having sex. Molly was quite busy, often working long hours at the office, not always having the energy for much fun by the time she did get home. And when she was in the mood, which was getting more and more frequent as time went on, he was locked in on his writing, putting him in a position to have to deny his wife's sexual advances regularly. He knew it seemed bad, but he was really making great progress on his story. He was almost done with it, and when you get so close to the end, you just don't want to stop, even if those distractions are fun ones. And plus... okay, he knew it was kinda messed up, but whenever he turned away his wife's sexual advances, he kept feeling this odd thrill, and he'd suddenly find the image of the Governess flashing across his mind's eye. It was as if the Governess would approve of a man like him not having sex with his wife. Again, he knew this sounded wrong, but the thrill that would be incited within him at gaining the approval of someone like the Governess would spur him to get right back to work writing, newly energized with ideas for the evil villainess and the type of wicked plans a woman like her would come up with. And besides, getting his story done quicker would only speed up him and Molly finally having the chance to slip into bed together, so it would all work out for the best in the long run.

For a time, this arrangement was working. The couple was settling in, work was going mostly well for Molly, and he was getting closer to finishing his magnum opus. Once he got that story out of his system, then he could focus on Molly. Then he could take all that energy that he was using for his writing and give it all to his wife.

Then, his writing slowed.

He was shocked that he suddenly felt like something was missing. That creative spark had dimmed somewhat, seemingly overnight, even though nothing had changed. Greg hoped to write it off as a temporary speedbump that he would be able to push past. Trying not to pay it too much mind, he took a day or two off from writing, hoping that it would work itself out. But it didn't. It got worse. His new ideas had seemed so raw, so fun, so exciting, but he could only wring out so much excitement out of that initial burst of ideas. And unfortunately for him, that progress was slowing down right before the finish line. He could feel that sensation of writer's block encroaching on the horizon again, and he was doing his best to ignore it. To push through it and not succumb to it as he did before.

Stepping away from his writing, he was able to assess the state of things, and in a flash of insight so potent that it alone almost spurred him out of his creative slump, he thought he had the answer. After weeks of subverting classic tropes in his writing, perhaps the answer was the most basic trope of all. Love. What if Molly was the answer? After everything that had happened, by throwing himself completely into his writing, his wife had taken a backseat. So, what if he renewed his focus on her? What if he finally gave the woman he married the attention she deserved? And what if, after everything, repairing the issues between him and his wife would be what would solve everything? Maybe the happy ending would win out after all. And maybe the power of that would re-energize his creativity and carry him past the finish line.

It was time to rekindle the fires between Greg and Molly. It was time finally find that domestic bliss and cement their love and marriage for good.

Greg planned out the entire thing. To really make this night start out the right way. Greg took Molly out to dinner. A fine, romantic date night out downtown, with them dressed up and going somewhere nice, giving them a night that he hoped would help him forget about his troubles for just a few hours. A night that could really rescue his marriage from the trouble it had recently found itself in, and in turn perhaps aid in his writing as well. And even from the start, Greg could tell his hopes were well-founded. Looking across the table at his wife's pretty, smiling face, he thought he felt a tinge of peace even as those dreaded feelings of writer's block bubbled beneath the surface, that encroaching enemy pausing in its tracks for at least a couple hours. His plan was working. Saving his marriage was the way to go for sure. He knew it! More moments like this, nights that reminded him of why he married Molly, that would definitely help him push through this oncoming creative block. Maybe, as trite as it sounded, love was in fact the answer all along. And with how well things were going, it felt like this night could only end one way. A happy, romantic ending, one that would relight the fires of their love life. And judging by the eyes she was giving him from across the table, this night was definitely heading that way.