Inspiration and Interruption

'How is it going?' she said, coming into the room behind me.

I sat back in the chair, letting my hands fall from the keyboard. 'Not too well.'

'Oh, why not?' She put her hands on my shoulders.

'I just can't seem to get going.'

She peered past me, at the computer screen, kissing my check as her face brushed mine. 'What is it about?'

'It is about this writer who can't write any more.'

'But if he's a writer who can't write, is he still a writer?'

'I don't know. That was something I wanted to find out. But he can't do any more.'

'Oh, why not?'

'Because he keeps getting interrupted.'

'Oh?' she came around in front of me, pushing the keyboard out of the way and sitting on my desk in front of the monitor. Her legs hung down either side of where I sat.

I glanced down at her thighs and the point where they disappeared under her short denim skirt.

She peered back over her shoulder at the screen. 'Why does he keep getting interrupted, then?'

'Because this woman keeps coming into the room when he is writing and distracting him.

'Oh....' she looked at me and began unbuttoning a button on her blouse. Several were already unbuttoned and under this one I could see the lacy edges of a pale lilac bra. 'This woman... what does she do?' She unbuttoned the next button and began pulling her blouse out from where it tucked into her skirt.

'Just as he thinks he's got an idea, she comes in and starts undressing either him or herself.'

'Really?' she pulled off the blouse and dropped it in my lap. 'That doesn't sound very credible.'

'You'd be surprised,' I said. 'Reality is often stranger than fiction.'

The bra landed in my lap.

I let the blouse and the bra fall off my lap onto the floor.

Then, she slipped off the desk and onto my lap and....