This is harder than it seems, though.

It had been weeks. Weeks of the author staring through her as Stephanie tried to think of what to do next. Weeks of being stuck in a hotel room with a hot cowboy and a braindead nerd.

"Um, let's see... maybe I fuck Tyler again?" she asked no one.

Tyler tipped his hat, the only article of clothing he was wearing. "Much obliged, ma'am." The author didn't react. Stephanie nodded enthusiastically.

"Ok, yeah. Here we go." She pushed him down onto the bed and slid herself onto him. Wait, was she wearing clothes? She flipped back through the last few entries.

"Hmm, ok, we're in the hotel... wait, I'm omnipotent! I don't need to worry about continuity errors! I'm naked."

The interruption over, she returned to sliding onto Tyler's massive cock. It felt amazing in her pussy and she moaned softly. Tyler smiled amicably and grabbed her hips. She began to slowly gyrate on top of him, her perfect curves moving slowly and sinuously as his hips bucked-

"Ugh," Stephanie said. "We just did this. Am I gonna be stuck fucking this cowboy in this room forever?" She slid sideways off of Tyler and laid back on the bed.

"I don't know where to take this thing. What do you think, Tyler?"

"I'd love to make you cum again, ma'am," he said with that same smile. Stephanie rolled her eyes.

"Of course you would, you're basically scenery. Should I round you out? Give you some trauma or a quirky personality?" She eyed him critically. "I mean, you weren't built for conversation."

"I was built to fuck your brains out, ma'am." His huge dick was still fully erect and it twitched as he spoke. Stephanie groaned.

"Alright, I know. I've got a brilliant writer here, the best writer in the world, and she's gonna help me write something."

A middle-aged woman in professional attire appeared and sat down across from them on the couch. She smiled sympathetically. "You poor thing, you're having trouble with your story, huh?"

"It's such a bunch of meta bullshit!" Stephanie complained. "I don't have any specific superpowers or magic spells or anything! I can do anything, but I can't think of anything to do! You're a brilliant writer, what should I do next?"

The writer was staring at Tyler's cock with fascination. He smiled and tipped his hat to her. Stephanie cleared her throat to get the woman's attention.

"Ah, right. You see, the problem is that writing skills are an informed attribute. You can write a a paragraph describing what a good writer I am, but I'm still limited by your writing skills. It's why you don't see many world-class poets in novels."

"So you've got nothing," Stephanie sighed. "Fuck. I was hoping not to have to do this. Ok, author, you've got your brain back but none of your authorship powers."

"Thanks," the author said sarcastically. "Let me guess, writer's block?"