300 Words

There once was a man named Saul. Saul was an average guy. He had sex a couple of times a week. He masturbated every day.

And every day was the same. He'd wake up, go to work, come home, and eat dinner. His wife would go to the den and watch TV. He would write erotica.

And he was popular, with lots of works out on the net. But then something changed. He wasn't writing anymore -- or at least publishing. None of his works got past 300 words. He'd start writing them, then get distracted, and well, and that was all he wrote. Until the next day.

It all started one day, when he was writing. His wife came in, sank to her knees, and began to suck him off.

She pulled off of him. "I read one of your stories today."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said with a sultry voice, and lowered her head down to his cock. It wasn't long before he was ready to blow. But then she pulled up off of him, and began going upstairs, pulling off one garmet at a time, leaving a trail for him to follow. By the time they made it up to their bedroom, they were both naked.

"You liked my story?" Saul asked, looking at his wife lying on the bed, legs spread, fingers on her cunt.

"I loved your story," she moaned.

"Which one was it?" he asked, as he knelt betwen her legs, his tongue snaking out towards her slit.

"The one, ohhh where they guy does that thing with his wife...."

"Oh, that one's unfinished," he said, his tongue sliding between her lips, finding her clit, teasing it.

"How does it end?"

"I don't know." He rose and slid his cock between her --