Spring Cleaning I and II

by Arty with contributions by Girl Friday

Friday dusted her hands in a flamboyant gesture. Finally the last of the clutter had been put away; the last shelf dusted; the last closet cleaned, she'd even managed to empty the wash basket. Unfortunately the future mound of Ironing was loomed over her imagination like some sort of cloth Matterhorn. Friday started to load the washing machine with the very last of the dirty clothes as she did so she noticed that the clothes she wore were dirtier even than the ones about to be washed. So with a mental shrug in the direction of the Levis advert on British TV she undressed and stuffed her clothes in the washer. Once the wash cycle was started she walked away from the machine, determined not to give in to the author that was tempting her with vision of a wonderful cum on the corner of the machine as it span at over a 1000rpm.

As she moved away from the machine the pile of ironing seemed to jeer at her. This sparked a thought, she did still have the leather outfit - a short detour to the closet containing the Muse outfits soon had her kitted out and feeling dominant. The hand signed contract was perused. Yup nothing in it stopping this; time to invoke her Musely magic.

A thoroughly confused Arty suddenly fell at her feet.

"What the...?" He looked around and then up; from his supine position on the floor he could see...

"Enough of that! You can look later when you've done the ironing."

"Ironing? I've got this code to finish and…"

"Yes I know and very boring it is too. How can you stand to write the stuff?"

"Programming is a very creative occupation; there are design choices to be made, an almost infinite number of ways of doing things..."

"OK I believe you." She bent down to kiss him. "But it's very boring when I tune in expecting to see me being left in an erotic quandary or Serena being stripped by her fiancé and all I get is stuff like:

if ((de = DictFindName( dict, expiry )) == NULL)
Fatal( "Failed to get fid for [%s]", expiry );
expire = de->fid;
idx = 0;
fields[idx++].fid = expire;


It's very off-putting."

"Anyway what's all this about ironing?"

"Well if you're going to be boring. I'm going to return the compliment." She waved the riding crop under his nose. "So get stripped and get ironing."

Arty looked around; there wasn't a whole lot of choice and if he were ever going to get back to work he would need Friday's powers. He shrugged and started to undress. He could use the time think about a particularly tricky bit of...

"Oh no! No code! Only erotic thoughts if you don't mind." Friday trailed the end of the crop around his balls and up and down his cock, which responded by hardening appreciatively. "That's much better."

"I don't know how much ironing I'll be able to manage if you keep doing that."

"Why don't we find out." She ceased stroking and snapped the crop gently across his bum.

"Okay, Okay. Show me the way to your ironing oh Mistress Muse."

"That's much better." Purred Friday.

So began a couple of hours of the strangest, if not the most extreme*, form of ironing that either Friday or Arty had experienced. Surprisingly enjoyable for both parties the pile of ironing diminished until only a set of clean sheets was left.

"You can leave those for after."

"After what."

"After we've made the first set dirty." Said Friday as she grabbed his raging erection and dragged him upstairs to the guest room.

-Fin-

PS *Extreme Ironing - a sport created by the English** and which we are currently world champions (yes there is more than one country involved!)

PPS **Whenever we discover that everyone else is better than we are we invent a new sport.

I was working the night shift out of Central when we got the call. A muse was missing and it was my job to find him. My name is Friday, Girl Friday.

I was pulling extra duty that night. Arty had decided he needed to write a story. It was some ridiculous tale about me and pile of laundry. I sort of tuned out after a while and look what it got me. I glanced down at the skin tight, black leather contraption. That'll teach me to get bored on duty.

The call came in late. There wasn't much I could do but put out an AMB - All Muse Bulletin. But I needed some details first. Chief said the last known sighting had been by Margarethe, so I went to ask her some questions.

She was beautiful. But then, every muse is. She wasn't very helpful.

"Description of the missing muse?"

"Oh, he's tall, hunky, gorgeous body, loves to murmer naughty things in Italian. He's a fabulous lover."

Her eyes glazed over as she recalled some past event that wouldn't be going into my report. I shook my head and tried to continue.

"When did you last see Marco?"

"Oh, it's been a few days now. He was with some Italian brunette."

"Any idea where they were headed?"

She giggled, "If I know Marco, and I do know Marco, they were headed for bed."

I rolled my eyes and headed back to Central. Looking through the files for more information wasn't much help. Nominally assigned to Catmandu99, Marco wasn't the most dedicated of muses. Oh, don't get me wrong -- he did some damn fine work -- but it seems he had a tendency to depart for parts unknown on a rather frequent basis.

Arty's tale about naked ironing was winding down. He was finally getting to the good part and my shift was almost over. I filled in what few details I had and issued the AMB. It went out to every muse in existence. If any other muse ran across Marco, they were to return him to Central for disciplinary action. I even added a special addendum to discourage any hanky panky before bringing him in. After all, hanky panky is what caused this mess to begin with.

As I was clocking out, I noticed the story Arty had filed, "Spring Cleaning." I looked it over and saw that once again he had skimped on the good parts. Looked like I needed to visit England before heading home.

Again.

A muse's work is never done.

His fingers blurred over the keys; he was occasionally amazed at how fast he could type with only a finger or two and a thumb. Every now and then he wondered how fast he would have been able to type if he'd kept up the typing lessons that he'd had a school and used all of his fingers. He typed the final few words with relish.

'... "After we've made the first set dirty." Said Friday as she grabbed his raging erection and dragged him upstairs to the guest room."

-Fin-'

He liked the Hitchcockian fade just as things were about to get explicit; he was awful at writing sex scenes and anyway the reader's imaginations would no doubt fill in the blanks as it were. With Friday's attention focused on the search for Marco he was fairly certain he could slide this one past without her noticing...

The whisper of wings behind him alerted him to the fact that she had noticed and was not amused.

"Well I like it so far; but you accidentally typed '-fin-' when you meant to say '-continued-' didn't you?"

Several alternative answers crossed his mind, all of them would result in a less than satisfactory outcome for him, so he chose the only answer likely to pass muster.

"Yes dear."

"You say the nicest things."

His lap was suddenly full of a bewinged Muse determined to see if her tongue could reach his tonsils via his ear. This should have been a less than erotic experience but the lascivious suggestions that interspersed her efforts plus the feel of her breasts on his chest made the process extremely arousing. He felt her flexing her buttocks to feel the extent of his arousal.

"That seems about right." There was a surge and while he was gathering his wits he felt a hand grasp his erection. He looked down to discover his total nudity and then looked around him, in some surprise, as she led him away from a stack of newly pressed clothes.

"Come with me."

"If you keep that up I may 'come' sooner than you would like."

She giggled but relaxed her grip a little. That was almost worse, as the feathery touch of her fingers heightened his arousal. He groaned. She grinned.

"Not far now." She let go of him and pushed him backwards onto a bed. He concentrated on not cumming and watched as she stripped off the black leather that she was wearing.

"My turn." she said as she knelt over his head facing his feet and lowered herself towards his waiting mouth.

His tongue explored her secrets and scouted the source of her womanly fluids*. A counterpoint of groans and moans greeted his discovery of her clitoris and a small shriek announced the commencement of a gentle attack on it. Her whole body vibrated with pleasure, as he did his best to make it good for her; without warning he felt his penis enveloped in the warmth of her mouth. It was his turn to moan as he felt her tongue tease the edges of his cockhead. Of course his moans aroused her further and a frantic positive feedback loop of erotic energy spiralled out of control until both of them fell apart sated.

Pulling her to him he cuddled her and kissed her deeply.

"That was magnificent, thank you."

"It's my Musely duty."

"Talking of 'Musely duties', how do I get back?"

"'One swallow does not a summer make.'" She quoted with a grin. "And one bout of 69 definitely doesn't satisfy this Muse!" While she was speaking his hands seemed to have minds of their own as they stroked and fondled the sexy package that snuggled into him. It wasn't long before he was in a position to do his Authorly duty. Not wanting to lose sight of her face he chose to enter her while gazing into her eyes; he loved to watch them cloud with lust as he thrust into her. He was rewarded once more and even though he had already come once the pleasure that he felt in making love to her was intense enough that he needed to distract himself or else curtail her enjoyment. He cast around for something to distract himself.

"No… Uhhhh ooooo code!"

She rippled herself around him and he was helpless to stop himself as he surged within her. She loved it when she made him lose control; the thought of it and the look on his face as he came was enough to tip her into her climax and now both of them moaned their release in an erotic two-part harmony. He collapsed onto her and then rolled to one side so that his weight wasn't crushing her; he was careful to remain coupled, he couldn't get enough of the feeling of being inside her.

She opened her eyes to see him smiling into hers from a few inches away. He leant forward and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Welcome back. I suppose you want me to iron that last pair of sheets now?"

She grinned and wriggled feeling him still embedded; she concentrated and squeezed rhythmically until she felt him respond and he groaned as he felt himself get hard again.

"I don't think we've quite finished here do you?"

He considered his next words very carefully for all of a millisecond, "No dear."

She giggled making him squirm in delight. "These sheets are nowhere near dirty enough yet."

He gave an exaggerated sigh that rapidly degenerated into a moan. The things that an author must do to satisfy his Muse; a difficult job, he thought, but someone has to do it. Then he turned to her and kissed her deeply; it was going to be a long afternoon.

-fin-

*Sorry. Don't blame me I'm only the author!

Much better. Next time we'll discuss how to use the dirty words properly. :D

Wonderful as always handsome!

*kisses*
Friday