Writers block! Definitely one of the worst feelings in the world for an aspiring novelist. I have felt this way before but never to this degree. In fact my trip up to my country cottage was for the purpose of eliminating distractions and making significant headway on my first novel. Unfortunately, even without distractions my mind is not producing anything ground breaking.
One week and I have produced one measly chapter which I am not even satisfied with. I have not left my cottage for a second and my only contact with the outside world has been a few short internet conversations with my loving boyfriend Marco. I need to get out of my rut of poor hygiene and constant unhealthy snacking.
A hot bath sounds like a good start! I draw hot water adding lily scented bubble bath to the tub and the smell immediately envelops my senses. I light a few candles and place them by the tub and then pull off my depressing grey sweatshirt which I have not removed in three days. I step out of my sweaty sweat pants next, feeling relieved to be standing completely naked. The steam from the bath is a welcoming feeling compared to the itchy sweats that held me captive. I look at my leg hairs which I have not attended to in a week and lather them up with shaving cream. I shave both legs carefully, not because I'm scarred of a scratch but because it gives me pleasure to be taking care of myself again.
I start to feel more like myself, more like a woman! I raise my left arm and take care of my stubbly armpit and repeat the same process with the right. Not understanding how I get myself like this when I immerse myself in my work. I run my hand down to my pubic mound and finger my fiery red bush which definitely needs to be taken care of. I plug in my electric raiser and give my bush a buzz cut. I then take the razor and model myself a thin triangle pointing to my pussy since I am beginning to feel a little playful.
I dip the toes of my right foot into the water and see that it is a perfect temperature. I step inside with both legs the warm water up to my knees the bubbles hugging my skin. I lower myself inch by inch and finish seated the water engulfing my five foot five, petite 110 pound frame. I let out a long sigh as my muscles begin to relax. I sit perfectly still for a few minutes and then tilt my head back soaking my oily shoulder length red hair. I grab a brush from the side of the tub and smooth out all my knots and tangles. When my difficult task is complete I lean my head back once more soaking my hair which starts to feel sexy again.
I lift my right leg out of the bubbles and straighten my knee pointing my toes straight ahead like the women in commercials. The soapy water slowly drips from my leg which glistens in the candle light. I smile for the first time in a week as I feel myself transform from a stressed, unattractive and unsuccessful writer into the young, sexy woman that I know I am. As my leg lowers back into the water I spread my legs letting my right hand wander over to my freshly made over pubic hair. My fingers delicately inspect my stubbly triangle and then wander lower to my pussy lips. I stoke my slit back and forth very slowly. The warm water has made me increasingly sensitive.
I let my legs fall open in the tub enjoying the warmth on my pussy. I continue to stoke slowly and eventually pick up speed. The water sloshes around in the tub as I begin to get more aggressive. My hips rhythmically sway in the water against my hand. I slowly insert two fingers into my pussy and work them in and out as I sink deep into the tub. I let out several soft moans which echo in my isolated cottage. I start to finger faster, the water splashing to and fro with each thrust. I spread my legs wide and lift my legs partially out of the water so I can rest my feet on the sides of the tub. I shorten the length of my thrusts and replace it with speed as I finger fuck myself rapidly. I get to the brink of my orgasm and I begin petting my clit with my thumb. My body shakes in the tub as I orgasm and a small amount of water and bubbles fall over the edge of the tub.
I lie perfectly still in this position for five minutes, gathering myself. I remove my hand from my vagina and wearily allow my legs to plop back into the tub. I manage to bring myself to my feet on shaky legs and step out of the tub grabbing my fluffy white towel robe. I see myself in the mirror, my skin pale from a lack of sun but healthy and refreshed. My soft white 28 BB breasts rise and fall with my heavy breathing, my tiny pink nipples poking out teasingly. My hair wet and straight, free from its knots and my greenish hazel eyes tired but satisfied. I wrap the comforting robe around my body and blow out the candles wobbling over to my bedroom where I pass out peacefully for the night.
Rays of sunlight creep through my blinds and wake me up early in the morning. I crawl out of bed and make a pot of coffee before sitting back down in front of my computer. I stare blankly at the screen for two full hours. My night of pampering has made me feel better but has not shown an effect on my writing.
A knock on the door startles me out of my daze. I mechanically walk over to answer it, squinting into the sunlight as I open the door.
"Hi Lauren," Marco says as my eyes focus in on my boyfriend standing before me in beige khaki shorts and a dark green t-shirt. "I thought I would pay you a quick visit," he says.
"What are you doing here baby?" I say a little confused, "You know I have a lot of work to do up here."
"I know you do!" he says with a smile, "But I also know how much you struggle when you are in a funk and I suspected that you were in one from our brief conversations."
"You know me too well honey," I say with a tried smile, before kissing Marco quick and hard on the lips.
"I am here to make sure you get back on track and I know exactly how to do it," he says handing me a bag. "Go change into these clothes and meet me outside."
I take the bag into the bedroom a little confused on what Marco has in store. I drop my robe to the floor and unpack the bag. I put on the plain white cotton panties that are inside followed by comfortable short white t-shirt and white ankle socks. I pull on the short jean shorts and finally the running shoes. I then hurry outside to see Marco on the porch.
"What are you up too babe?" I say, "I want to know what's going on"
"Your problem when you're writing is that you are stuck in doors constantly Lauren" he says. "It's not the kind of environment that is going to stimulate you. You need to be outside and let nature inspire you."
"Going outside for a little bit is not going to change anything Marco," I say with a little frustration at his simple solution. "It's easy for you since you're a photographer but nature is not going to inspire anything I am trying to write about."
"The subject does not matter. I am trying to show you that nature can be therapeutic," he responds.
