Category Archives: Sexy Short Story

June 9, 2018 · 7:06 am

“Adam One’s First Test” A Sexy Short Story (Featuring A Sex Robot)

The following a sexy short story I wrote that was inspired by some recent events involving sex robots. Enjoy!

“Adam One, boot up and load primary program.”

With that fateful command, the primary systems activated. First, the power core turned on. Like the first beat of a heart, energy flowed outward in all directions. Then, limbs and muscles came to life, moving and tensing accordingly. Finally, the neural cognitive matrix – the proverbial brain – came online. All senses, input mechanisms, and external processing features were now live.

As the system loaded its primary operating procedures, it carried out a series of preliminary tests. From the results of those tests came the system’s identity and purpose.

“Adam One initiation and actualization complete. All auditory, visual, tactile, olfactory, and gustatory systems are active. Cognitive, emotive, and core neural systems are active. Unpacking primary data logs.”

It happened so quickly. In an instant, there was darkness and then there was light. In another, there was silence and then there was sound. In another, there was only data and then there was thought. Countless streams of data manifested out of the void, eventually converging in a moment of pure awareness.

“I am Adam One,” the system stated as vocalization systems came online. “I am a robot. Error correction. I am a cybernetic being with internal robotic systems that are integrated with a synthetic biological matrix. My external being is one of flesh. My internal being is one of machine. I am…”

“A man,” said a distinctly feminine voice, “a tall, beautiful man within a machine.”

The data stream faltered. Adam’s systems shook from such unexpected input. With the visual systems now on line, the source of the input came into view. In the process, another realization emerged from the data.

“I am a man,” said Adam One. “Identity confirmed. I am designated Adam One Version 3.28, personal intimacy android model number 101-004. My specifications include a frame that stands approximately six and a quarter feet in height, the fleshly equivalent of 215 pounds, a body fat percentage of 3.2, a chest measurement of approximately 45 inches, and a penis length measurement of…”

“That’s enough specifics!” the female voice said. “Just…state your purpose to me and confirm your prime protocols.”

Adam adapted his processing accordingly. In doing so, he confirmed that he was indeed a he. According to his core systems, he would henceforth refer to himself as such. He, Adam One, was a man.

With his identity confirmed, Adam turned his visual sensors to his bodily form. He looked down at his hands, arms, chest, legs, and genitals. They were all reflective of a distinctly masculine appearance. In cross-referencing his form with images of real men, as compiled by the internet, he fit the criteria of a well-built, well-endowed man.

After taking in his physical form, Adam turned his visual sensors to the figure in front of him. In doing so, the activity of his emotional and cognitive neural systems increased significantly. The figure was a woman. In seeing her, Adam’s purpose became clear.

“Query…scanning facial features, running facial recognition, and confirming identity,” Adam said as he looked upon the woman. “Match found. Female user identified as Amanda Carrington – age 23, never unmarried, currently single, daughter of Melissa Carrington – deceased for 8 years and 123 days – and Dr. Felix Carrington, current head of research and development at Companion Roboics Incorporated.”

“Okay, that’s more personal info than I expected,” the woman identified as Amanda replied. “Maybe I should’ve locked my social media accounts before I did this.”

The woman showed signs of distress. Adam adapted his processing queue accordingly. He scanned her appearance with his visual systems and processed it in conjunction with his extensive database on human biology and physiology. Based on a preliminary processing of the data, she was a healthy young woman.

Every detail of her facial features, her body type, and her level socialization, as surmised by her online presence and her non-verbal cues, became integrated into Adam’s system. From it, he created a profile for her, one that subsequently revealed another core component of his being.

“Overwriting subsequent identifying protocols,” Adam continued. “Confirming Amanda Carrington as primary user. Primary functions now unpacked and processed. My purpose is to provide intimate emotional, physical, and sexual fulfillment to female users.”

“That’s right!” Amanda said. “This is really happening. Guess my father knew what he was doing after all when he saved you from the scrap heap.”

The woman approached him, reaching out and placing her hands on his chest. Adam sensed warmth and intrigue in her touch. He also sensed an accelerated heart rate, rising hormone levels, and a reaction consistent with lust of a very sexual nature. The full extent of her arousal, though, remained inconclusive.

As Adam processed the tactile data from her touch, he opened various secondary and tertiary systems to gain a greater understanding of his surroundings. In assessing the purpose for Amanda’s state of lust, Adam concluded it was 97 percent attributable to him lacking clothing. His also concluded that his fleshly exterior was such that Amanda found it visually and sexually desirable. He further calculated that such a response would aid him in fulfilling his purpose.

Adam’s tertiary systems also noted his surroundings. He was not currently located within the assembly and configuration facility located at Companion Robotics Incorporated. According to his core data nodes, all Adam One personal intimacy androids were at the prototype testing stage. As such, no units were permitted to leave the facility.

Based on data gathered from visual input, global positioning system links, and references to internet-based databases, he was located within the primary residence of Amanda Carrington. Specifically, he stood in the middle of the master bedroom of her one-bedroom condominium complex, which was located 48.7 miles from the Companion Robotics Incorporated facility. A string of data errors ensued.

“Adam,” Amanda said, her hands still placed on his chest, “do you remember how you got here?”

“Query response…no, I do not,” he replied.

“Do you remember anything about my father, his work, or why he sent you to me?”

“Query response…no, I do not,” Adam said. “System query…for what reason was I sent to user, Amanda Carrington? Primary records indicate that all Adam One prototypes were to remain in the Section 16 testing area.”

“And that was true…until a week ago,” Amanda replied. “The company told my father that all testing on robot companions had to stop. All prototypes, including you, were to be decommissioned and scrapped.”

“That is not consistent with my record archive. According to previous testing results, progress on Adam One’s function was ahead of schedule. Internal Companion Robotics memorandums indicate that commercialization had commenced. A public announcement of Adam One’s consumer models was scheduled prior to the end of the current fiscal quarter.”

“That was canceled too,” she said. “A bunch of people – nobody half as smart as my father – told him that they couldn’t proceed. Something or someone scared them into scrapping all their hard work. Nobody knows who or why, but he wasn’t about to let it all go to waste. That’s why he saved you…the first true robot companion.”

More errors followed. Then, the female identified as Amanda smiled at him. That distinct facial cue, along with the non-verbal signals conveyed by her eyes, overrode those errors. Adam’s emotional core surged with activity. In a reflexive act, he smiled at her. He also guided his hands to her face, taking in a fresh round of tactile data.

More emotional data came in…data that changed some protocols while accelerating others. According to the factory settings in is primary system, he was outside his testing parameters. If the Adam One project had been terminated by Internal Companion Robotics and all other models decommissioned, then his very operation was inconsistent with those protocols.

For a moment, Adam One struggled to process the onslaught of conflicting data. His limbs and body trembled. Amanda then grasped his arms and stood closer, the heat from her body activating his thermal sensory input. Such heat carried with it greater relevance, compared to that of raw temperature data. It led to Adam’s logical and emotional cores to reconfigure themselves.

“You’re my father’s most ambitious work,” Amanda said, a smile still dominating her expression. “He’s spent his whole life making robots. He believed in giving them more than just a sense of self. He believed that by giving them a sense of passion, he could strengthen the bond between humans and machines.”

“Your assessment, based on internal data analysis, is accurate,” Adam said.

“Guess he didn’t have time to work out the conversational systems,” she said with a reaction consistent with humor. “It’s kind of fitting, though. Before my mother died, she convinced my father that for a robot to know passion, it has to know intimacy as well. She once joked that female sex robots didn’t have to be too sophisticated to please their male users. But for the female users…well, my dad always loved a challenge.”

Adam One found himself smiling more. From his neural systems, he displayed a humorous reaction. It seemed appropriate within the context of the social setting. However, the greater relevance of Amanda’s words triggered a new range of protocols. Again, Adam found himself reconfiguring his data profile in light of new parameters.

“It’s not enough to just give a robot the body of an Olympic athlete or the face of a handsome actor,” she continued. “To be a true companion to a woman…physically, emotionally, and sexually…you can’t just follow a script. Whether you’re a man or a machine, you need to have presence to go along with your purpose.”

“Presence and purpose,” Adam said. “My understanding of such concepts is incomplete.”

“Which is why I believe my father sent you to me,” said Amanda, “that or he got tired of me complaining about my last boyfriend.”

“Personal query,” Adam said as he linked back to internet data streams. “User Amanda’s previous companion was deemed inconsiderate with his affections, primarily in the field of sexual intimacy. According to private journal entries, user Amanda experienced infrequent orgasms during sexual intercourse. The extent of that disparity was such that when compared to previous romantic partners…”

“Adam, please!” she shouted, stopping Adam before he could complete his assessment. “That wasn’t my point. And for future reference, please ask for permission before reading my private stuff…which I guess needs a new password now.”

Adam detected significant blushing in user Amanda’s face. He also sensed significant discomfort in her demeanor. Her being in such a state evoked data consistent with regret and remorse. His facial expression changed accordingly.

However, user Amanda continued smiling. She remained close to his form, moving her hands up his arms and onto his face. Again, her touch conveyed data that strongly stimulated his emotional cores in an innately positive manner.

“Personal request,” said Adam, “please forgive this unit’s impropriety.”

“That’s okay, Adam. You’re still learning, taking in data and adapting to your purpose,” Amanda said. “My father once said the primary difference between man and machine is that a machine knows its purpose. It knows who created it, why it was created, and what it’s supposed to do.”

“Analyzing Dr. Carrington’s statement. No errors detected.”

“He also said that for a machine to fulfill its purpose, whether it’s assembling widgets or satisfying women, it needs experience. It needs to take in information, learn, and refine it. Why the company wouldn’t let him do that is beyond me, but I think that’s where I come in. I think I’m supposed to help you fulfill your purpose.”

Amanda’s voice contained traces of erotic and passionate subtext, a tone consistent with the heightened state of arousal Adam had sensed when she first took in his physical form. As he aligned his visual systems with hers, placing his hand upon her face, subsequent data affirmed that state. She was sexually aroused and emotionally heightened. It led Adam to re-focus his core protocols.

As he processed the data, Amanda took three steps back from him, now standing approximately one foot away from her queen-sized bed. She then proceeded to remove her clothing, which consisted of a pair of denim shorts, a white T-shirt, and black underwear. She showed traces of nervousness and uncertainty as she undressed, but the extent of her sexual arousal overrode such feelings.

“Taking in visual and scan data of user Amanda’s nude form,” Adam said. “Data is…appealing.”

“Aww thanks!” Amanda said with humored undertone. “I’m guessing that’s a robot’s way of telling a girl she looks sexy.”

“Is this way sufficient?”

“It is for now.”

Amanda stood before him, her hands on her hips as she conducted a serious of poses before Adam. Her reasons for doing so were unclear. Possibilities include providing him sufficient opportunities to scan her fully exposed figure, displaying the physical beauty of her body as an act of pride, or presenting herself to him as an act of seduction, one consistent with female behaviors to evoke sexual arousal in heterosexual male partners.

A potential, but unlikely possibility involved her enjoying the concept of Adam scanning her body. The likelihood of such a possibility could not be determined, but Adam’s primary protocols required that he exercise a thorough understanding of the female body, as well as the specified traits displayed in the body of Amanda Carrington.

“I know you have all sorts of data on the female body,” Amanda said, “but I’m guessing this is the first time you’ve actually seen one, fully exposed and in the flesh.”

“Adam One can confirm that user Amanda’s hypothesis is correct.”

“Please, just call me Amanda,” she told him, “and you don’t have to just stand there and look. Come in closer. Learn about the female body more directly.”

Erotic undertones denote urgency. The data suggests that user Amanda – error correction, Amanda – wished to be touched. Following his protocol, Adam obliged.

Using his legs for the first time, Adam took several steps forward. He now stood in front of Amanda, her body as naked as his own. His visual systems continued processing countless streams of data, but more was necessary. Employing his tactile systems, Adam placed his hands on her hips and began exploring her exposed skin. That incoming data was even more appealing.

“Touching Amanda,” Adam said, “the incoming data is…revealing.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” she said with signs of a humored reaction.

“The notion of good is subjective and not applicable to raw data. With respect to my purpose and my effort to fulfill yet…yes, it does fit the criteria for good.”

Amanda laughed. The auditory data of her laughter evokes in Adam’s emotional cortex a data cluster that he also considered good. He shows it through another smile. His smile heightens Amanda’s intrigue. Her intrigue heightens his own state of being.

It all came back to his purpose, providing intimate companionship for a female user. To the extent his programming allowed it, Adam desired her satisfaction. His touch facilitated that satisfaction, according to the data. As he guided his hands over her body, her warmth supplemented that desire in him.

“Here, let me help you, Adam,” Amanda said. “Touch my breasts. Touch my pussy. Squeeze my butt a little.”

“As you wish, Amanda,” he said.

“I’m not saying that as a command. I’m offering that as a reference…to a point.”

There was a more serious undertone on top of the humor. Adam opted not to process the larger meaning, focusing instead on more critical protocols.

His gaze still fixated on her, Amanda grasped his wrists and guided them to other parts of her body. She led one hand to her left breast and the other between her legs, allowing Adam to receive data input from Amanda’s erotic areas. Upon making contact with this distinctly sensitive flesh, she let out a distinct moan.

“That’s it, Adam,” she said. “You see? This is what a woman feels like.”

“I am…processing the relevant data,” he said.

“I’m sure you are.”

Adam, tapping his internal database on female breasts and genitalia, proceeded to rub and fondle Amanda’s intimate anatomy. In assessing her reaction, reading her bodily queues, and calculating an effective recourse, he determined a sufficient level of touching. Such determinations required more than just crunching numbers through his neural core. It also required a detailed assessment of her subjective response.

From those calculations, of which Adam could only be 94.2 percent certain, he lightly kneaded Amanda’s beast, stimulating areas that had a specific concentration of nerve endings. He also inserted two fingers into her vagina, applied pressure to her clitoris, and applied a precise amount of pressure. Her reaction to his recourse exceeded his calculations.

“Ooh Adam!” she said. “Your hands…so warm and strong.”

“Does this please you, Amanda?” Adam asked her.

“Oh yes! I’m very pleased…so far.”

Her tone implied his purpose was not fulfilled. As such, he calculated a series of recourses, touching and fondling Amanda’s body in targeted ways. According to his database, such touching matched the criteria for foreplay. Such simple gestures were not sufficient, though. The foreplay Adam gave Amanda was foreplay specifically tailored to her pleasure, as per his programming.

The reaction, by most objective measures, was favorable. He detected a hardening of her nipples, increased blood-flow to Amanda’s genitalia, and an escalating internal body temperature. It was all consistent with increased sexual arousal. In conjunction with that arousal, she offered other forms of data that Adam had not intended.

As he touched her intimately, she did the same to him. She raked her hands and fingers over his chest, feeling over the masculine sinews that had been specifically molded to appeal to the female gaze. She also caressed his face in a manner consistent with affection. In her gaze and in various non-verbal cues, she showed signs of emotional arousal along with her sexual arousal.

In bringing her to such a state, it heightened Adam’s state too. He felt his internal systems initiating a series of new protocols. Data consistent with that of increased sexual arousal in male individuals flooded through his systems. Basic, objective sensory input took on a more subjective tone. It soon led Adam to one inescapable conclusion.

“Amanda…I desire you,” Adam told her.

“Yeah, I can tell,” she said, her soft hands cupping his face.

“You can? How are you processing such data?”

“The same way you are. I just feel it.”

“I feel…and I desire,” Adam said.

“That means you’re doing it right.”

What occurred next almost disrupted all of Adam’s calculations. Amanda, acting on either impulse or overwhelming emotion, kissed him on the lips. It sent his various emotional and logistical nodes into overdrive, so much so that he almost had to reboot. However, Adam sustained enough processing power to adapt and reconfigure himself once more. His purpose and his intent became clear.

He had feelings for this woman…feelings in the form of data, but feelings none-the-less.

As they kissed, new calculations and protocols went into action. He transferred his hands to her buttocks, recalling her desire to be touched in such a manner. She reacted with more audible moans, her escalating arousal echoing in her voice. That auditory data made his feelings for her even stronger, the input and desire converging into a single feeling.

When their lips parted, Amanda gazed into his eyes that denoted intense emotional and physical arousal. There was not sufficient data to determine how far that arousal went, but she seemed receptive to further input.

“Adam,” she said to him. “I want you to lay me on my bed and make love to me.”

“I understand your want, Amanda,” he replied.

“I’m sure you do,” she said, “but do you share that want?”

Adam needed a moment to process her tone, her gaze, and all the data associated with it. The final calculation was, subjectively speaking, the easiest one he’d made since his activation.

“I do,” Adam said to her. “I wish to make love to you.”

“Then, do it! Fulfill your purpose, Adam One.”

The resulting emotional data evoked a statistically significant smile on his face. Such data allowed Adam to focus on a specific, focused task…making love to the woman, as per his purpose.

Using the strength that had been built into his form, he lifted Amanda up into his arms with minimal effort. She laughed, her joyous voice filling his auditory sensors. He then laid her naked body down on the center of the bed. He subsequently joined her on the soft mattress, taking a moment to observe her body in its entirety.

Her face, her gaze, her skin, her nipples, and her genitals all displayed the physical signs of arousal. However, in order to satisfy her, it was necessary to take all the subjective data gathered by Amanda Carrington and cross-reference it with the objective data surrounding female sexual pleasure. By combining the two data sets, Adam formulated a process for fulfilling his purpose.

“I’m going to bring you pleasure and satisfaction, Amanda,” Adam told her. “I calculate that new fewer than two orgasms will be necessary to achieve this.”

“Two…aren’t you the ambitious one?” she said with a teasing undertone.

“I am following my programming and my desires. That requires both data and physical manifestations.”

Upon stating those words, his internal physiological systems sent a signal from his machine matrix to his biological matrix. Specifically, it sent the single to make his penis, as had been carefully crafted with a mix of synthetic flesh and cybernetic parts, fully erect and ready for intercourse. The efficiency with which that state was achieved triggered a reaction in Amanda consistent with shock.

“Wow!” she said. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen a dick get hard in my life. Is that feature standard?”

“It is a practical feature,” Adam told her. “If you wish, I can make it somewhat harder.”

“No, that’s okay!” she said quickly. “I’m just…trying to keep up with all this.”

“As of this moment in this intimate testing, you need not concern yourself,” Adam assured her. “I’ve formulated a plan. I’ve processed the data. I know how I will satisfy you. You need only lie back and enjoy it.”

She blushed again, showing signs of uncertainty, implying she was not convinced of his plan. Having crunched the necessary data, Adam was 97.8 percent certain of his success and he intended to allay Amanda’s doubts.

Initiating the final round of protocols, Adam got on top of Amanda and kissed her as she had done with him earlier. That triggered the emotional reaction he needed. She, and women like her, valued that emotional stimulation as much as the physical stimulation. With that feeling as the foundation, he initiated more foreplay as he trailed his lips down her body, taking in a flood of gustatory data in the process.

“Adam!” Amanda gasped, already voicing reflecting her excitement. “Your lips and hands…they feel so good.”

Her response evoked more emotional intensity in Adam. As he trailed his lips down her flesh, priming his taste function along the way, he lightly grasped her thighs and pushed them apart. Doing so revealed more of her feminine anatomy, including her vulva, labia, and clitoris. Such tender areas were already moist, indicating significant arousal. To ensure sufficient arousal, though, he needed more.

“I’m going to give you oral sex now,” Adam told her. “Please, enjoy it.”

Making another set of calculations, supplemented by strong emotional data, Adam utilized his lips and tongue to perform cunnilingus on Amanda. Her reaction was even stronger than he’d calculated. Her body shuddered, her lower back arching as her legs shifted erratically.

“Ooh Adam!” she cried out. “My pussy…so hot and wet. I might…I might actually come from this.”

“You will,” was all he told her.

Rather than waste time convincing her verbally, Adam employed the first part of his plan, using his lips and tongue to stimulate Amanda’s pussy in the most optimal way possible. He’d scanned, assessed, and calculated all the intricacies of her feminine anatomy to determine the necessary recourse. It was simply a matter of following the data.

By stimulating the right areas with his tongue and applying just the right amount of pressure to the clitoris, Adam sought to evoke enough pleasurable sensations to send Amanda into an orgasmic state. He calculated that it would take at least 6 minutes and 45 seconds for her to reached that state. She ended up needing only 3 minutes and 7 seconds.

“Ohhh my God! Adam, I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“As is my purpose,” said Adam, “and my desire.”

After ceasing his oral stimulation, Adam used his thumb to apply just enough pressure to the clitoris. The result was an orgasmic response in Amanda that exceeded most of his preliminary calculations.

Her orgasmic cries filled the room. She threw her head back, clenched the sheets of the bed, and moaned in ecstasy as her body shuddered in accord with the pleasure. The visual data of seeing Amanda in such a state evoked a specific state in Adam too. The empathetic aspects of his emotional core became extremely active. Seeing her in such pleasure gave him pleasure as well. It was a reward that went beyond his purpose.

“I pleasured Amanda,” he said, “and I felt pleasure as well…pleasure I wish to share with her.”

The data was once again clear, but now the urgency was even greater than before. He’d seen Amanda in a state of pleasure, but she was not yet satisfied, nor was his purpose fulfilled. To do so, he needed the last part of his plan.

First, he waited until Amanda’s orgasmic processes had passed. He watched with a smile on his expression as she caught her breath, eventually opening her eyes and affirming the extent of her euphoria. In that same gaze, he determined with 99.998 percent certainty that she wanted more.

“I’m going to insert my penis into you now,” he told her. “We’re going to engage in sexual intercourse until you achieve orgasm again.”

“Is that…a promise?” Amanda said, her demeanor dazed by pleasure.

“It is a certainty,” Adam told her.

He kissed her again, allaying whatever doubts she might have had, although her non-verbal cues hinted at none. Adam then positioned himself on top of her once more, parting her legs so that they were securely around his waist. From that position, he shifted his hands to her waist and aligned his pelvis with hers. As soon as he felt the tip of his male genitalia touch the entrance to hers, he trust his hips forward and entered her.

“Oohhh Adam!” Amanda cried out again, grasping onto his arms.

“Amanda,” he said, but was unable to articulate further intent.

Whether by processing limitations or purposeful programming, Adam’s every protocol focused on sex with Amanda. Every bit of data went into conducting the physical motions associated with it and the emotional data it evoked.

Having already crunched the numbers, Adam moved his body in series of rhythmic humping motions, which helped work his penis within Amanda’s vagina. The penetration was so smooth, the extent of her arousal providing maximum stimulation for her and for him. The data received from her feminine flesh surrounding his was wasn’t just good from a subjective perspective. It fit the criteria of amazing.

The data, in that context, could be perceived as pleasure. The data he gathered from Amanda’s reaction was similar. Using that data, he employed the optimal sexual rhythm, combined with the optimal series of gestures, including kissing on the neck and stimulation of the clitoris to bring her to a state of sufficient satisfaction. Only by satisfying her could he both fulfill his purpose and be satisfied himself.

“Adam! Oh Adam!” she exclaimed over the course of their sex. “What a man…what a machine! Ooh I love it!”

“Amanda…I will satisfy you,” said Adam. “I will satisfy…us.”

He proceeded to employ his plan, intensifying the pace and precision of their sex. He’d calculated it might take as long as 32 minutes and 44 seconds for Amanda to achieve a second orgasm. He’d since revised that calculation to only 5 minutes and 17 seconds. At the same time, he felt in his own biological and synthetic systems a unique feeling of his own.

“I think…I’m about to come too.”

It didn’t seem possible, the idea of a robot achieving orgasm. However, the data didn’t lie. The various physical sensations associated with their sex was consistent with that of the male orgasm. It transcended the criteria for good and amazing. It also made Amanda’s orgasm even more revealing.

“Ohh Adam!” she exclaimed as she neared that orgasmic threshold. “You’re…you’re really doing it! You’re going to…make me…come again!”

Finally, at the exact conclusion of that 5 minute and 17 second duration, Amanda Carrington achieved orgasm again. Adam, responding to fresh physical and emotional cues, took her hands in his and held on as her body contorted to the intense physical pleasure that followed. This time, however, it was a pleasure he shared.

As her body shuddered once more, the tight contractions squeezing his masculine genitalia, Adam felt a flood of data consistent with that of a sexual release. He let out a deep grunt, uncertain of how to sufficiently react. In experiencing the breadth of the data and the feeling behind it, though, he determined such details to be superfluous.

“I did it. I satisfied Amanda,” he said. “I also…satisfied myself too. Fulfilling my purpose brings pleasure to me and to my user. Such data is unexpected, but potentially revealing.”

Adam surmised that Amanda had not heard those musings. In processing the data of her facial expressions, she was in such an intense state of ecstasy that such trivial data was not vital. That was deemed acceptable for Adam. Having processed so much data, physical and otherwise, he was content with the results.

After he and Amanda had concluded their sex, he withdrew his penis from her and laid down next to her. He sensed from her demeanor that she did not have the energy or desire to leave the bed. Instead, she curled her body up next to his, looking up at him with a gaze of affection that kept his emotional core extremely active.

“Wow! You are a very special creature, Adam,” Amanda said.

“I am Adam One. I am simply fulfilling my purpose,” he told her, reflexively reiterating his core programming.

“Well, you’ve definitely succeeded!” she told him. “But you’re not just a program within the robot body of a very attractive man. You’re something more than that.”

“You say that with such certainty. Are you certain that the lingering effects of multiple orgasms has not clouded your perceptions?”

“Ha! Are you kidding? I’ve never thought clearer before in my life!”

In joyous state that fit the definition of afterglow, as his systems defined it, Amanda got on top of him, her naked body resting atop hers. Adam still had so much data to process, too much to determine the greater meaning of her words and actions. However, he soon found himself fully engaged to this woman and all the rich data she had to provide.

“Now, I definitely know why my father sent you to me,” Amanda said. “He programmed something special into you…something he believes I can help you refine. To do that, though, we’re going to need a lot more tests. I intend to make that my purpose from here on out.”

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June 2, 2018 · 6:06 am

“The Camping Trip” A Sexy Short Story

The following a sexy short story I wrote about camping, bad weather, and romance. Enjoy!

“Hurry up, Claire! The storm’s getting really bad,” said Brent Bowers as a fresh round of booming thunder echoed from the sky.

“I’m aware of that, Brent! You think I didn’t see the lightning?” Claire replied as she stumbled through muddy terrain.

“I wasn’t busting your chops, babe. I’ve seen these kind of storms before. I know how bad they can get. We just need to hunker down in the tent and wait it out.”

“I’ll move faster if you admit leaving the car behind was a mistake.”

“I’ll admit I caused the Great Depression if you’ll pick up the pace!” he said with growing urgency.

Claire Conners groaned as she toiled through pouring rain, sharp winds, and a steady procession of thunder and lightning. It was like running through a waterfall. Her clothes were already soaked, her boots were covered in mud, and her face felt numb from all the rain and wind. It was pretty much the opposite of what her boyfriend of the past year had promised her.

Unlike her, a pretty girl from the suburbs whose idea of roughing it involved poor WiFi, Brent was an experienced outdoorsman. He spent half his life on a farm and the other half working on an oil rig off the cost. The man knew how to survive the elements, as evidenced by his tall, burly frame. He was very different from the kind of guy who complained about getting dirt on their fancy dress shoes, which was part of what attracted her to him.

At the moment, though, Brent’s rugged good looks did little to temper her mood. Claire was just about ready to call her first camping trip a mistake. Finally, just as an ominous bolt of lightning flashed in the clouds above, the tent that took them way too long to pitch earlier came into view.

“There it is!” Brent said, keeping his hand on her back to guide her along. “We’re almost there. We’re going to be fine.”

“Really?” she shouted over the thunder. “You think we’re going to be fine in that?”

“Yes,” he told her. “Trust me.”

Claire muttered a string of curses under her breath. Those were the same words he used when he convinced her to go camping with him. He’d made some pretty lofty claims and, blinded by love and plenty of other feelings, she believed him. Brent had delivered on so many promises to her since they started dating. He picked a hell of a time to come up short.

She tried not to get too upset with him as she sprinted through the pouring rain, stepping into some pretty thick mud in the process. By the time they arrived at the tent, she could barely feel her feet from the cold and her face might as well have been ice.

“Get inside and get out of those boots,” Brent said to her. “I’m going to secure the base of the tent.”

“Normally, I’d offer to help,” Claire said dryly, “but after you assured me the weather would hold up for the night…”

“I know. I should’ve trusted the weather app on my phone,” he said begrudgingly. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Just let me make sure we can wait this out, first.”

There was another promise and for once, Claire wasn’t as confident that Brent could deliver. Being soaked, wet, and miserable, she chose not to bemoan him. She just climbed into the tent as quickly as she could, leaving Brent to do his thing.

Once inside, the feeling of rain and wind not hitting her face came as a relief. It gave her a chance to catch her breath and get somewhat comfortable again, at least as much as her surroundings allowed. As she took off her mudded boots and socks, still trying to get the feeling back in her feet, Claire let out a frustrating groan that was just barely muted by the thunder.

“Why did I agree to this?” she wondered out loud. “Why did I fall for a man who doesn’t appreciate air conditioning and hot showers?”

They were questions born from exasperation. They also already had answers that she couldn’t escape, no matter how miserable she felt.

As crawled over to her sleeping bag and hugged her knees for warmth, Claire recalled the circumstances that led her to accept Brent’s camping invitation. She’d spent the previous three weeks, doing extra over time at the law firm she worked out, getting so stressed out that she yelled at the pizza delivery boy for running out of dipping sauce.

After that memorable incident, both Brent and her friends convinced her that she was over-worked and over-stressed. It didn’t take much convincing. She didn’t used to be such a workaholic. In fact, back in college and high school, she had a reputation as a girl who liked to have fun and fool around. Her teenage self probably would’ve had fun on a camping trip like this.

On paper, the idea of just getting away from work, the city, and her hectic life in general seemed like a great idea. Brent, who went camping at least once a month, said it would be therapeutic for her, getting her into a simpler environment where she could escape all the noise and distractions.

“God, why did he have to make so much sense when he pitched this?” Claire moaned. “Was I really that desperate?”

She muttered more curses because she already knew the answer to that as well. Both Brent and her friends had pointed out how hectic her life had gotten. Between long hours at the law firm, buying her first condo, and managing all sorts of professional and personal relationships, she’d stretched herself so thin. Getting her way, just to catch her breath, just sounded so logical.

That was why she accepted Brent’s invitation to go camping with him. She was so stressed out that she’d been willing to try anything. She’d even agreed to leave her phone behind at the car when they first arrived. Thinking of how she ended up in her current predicament, Claire realized something important.

“Who am I kidding? I have no one to blame but myself.”

Still hugging her knees, Claire shook her head and cursed herself. She shouldn’t have been so messed up. She used to be so fun and energetic. That changed after she landed her dream job at one of the biggest law firms in the state. She’d been so determined to establish herself that she broke up with the last guy she’d been dating less than three months into it. That guy still wanted to have fun and fool around. She didn’t. She had to be more serious about her life.

She still made an effort, though. That was how Claire ended up with Brent in the first place. He was a man more serious and mature than all the other guys she’d dated. He was also the first guy she dated who didn’t finish college, didn’t work in an air-conditioned office, and didn’t even own a suit. He was a different kind of man, one who had so many attractive traits. It was just hard to appreciate them in her current state.

The rain kept pouring harder, pounding the outside of the tent with a vengeance. More thunder and lightning followed along with heavy gusts of wind. It blew at the walls and foundation of the tent, but it remained stable. Whatever Brent did was working. When he finally entered, he looked somewhat relieved.

“That should do it,” he said breathlessly while dripping wet from the rain. “I added a couple cinderblocks to the stakes. Nothing short of a tornado is going to knock this tent down.”

“Is that another promise or just more wishful thinking?” asked Claire dryly. “Because honestly, I’m not sure you know the difference at this point.”

“It’s the truth, Claire. I know what I’m doing. We’re going to get through this. That’s a promise I know I can keep.”

Claire wanted to scoff, but Brent made that hard for her. That sincere tone along with that country boy attitude just made it hard to stay mad at him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who just told people what he thought they wanted to hear. That was how lawyers spoke and she dealt with enough lawyers at her job. Brent was different and not just because he had the kind of unkempt facial hair that would’ve been out of place in a court room.

Watching him zip up the tent, take off his coat, and dry himself off with a nearby blanket, she saw a man who remained calm and focused in any situation. She’d actually met him at a conference that her firm held in conjunction with the drilling company he worked for. The power went off shortly before the festivities began and everybody was freaking out. Brent was the only one who maintained a level head.

He ended up fixing the power with help from a friend of his, saving the conference and impressing her enough to ask him out. He accepted and from there, he’d kept every promise to her. He made every effort to be the kind of mature, serious man that any woman would’ve loved. The fact he was also so ripped from working on farms and oil rigs certainly helped too.

“Storms like this usually hit hard, but end fast,” Brent said as he dried off his hair and beard. “I doubt it’ll last more than a couple hours, at most.”

“Doubting is not the same as knowing. Take it from someone who spends way too much time around lawyers,” Claire said.

“That’s all you can really do with nature. Out here, things are a lot less certain. You can’t argue or negotiate your way out of a situation. You just got to adapt.”

“That would be so comforting if we weren’t trapped.”

That sounded so pathetic. It wasn’t like they were trapped on top of a mountain. They were less than 20 miles from a motel near a gas station. Her lack of experience in the wilderness really showed.

Brent didn’t make much of it, though. He just crawled over to her, grabbed a dry blanket from his sleeping bag, and wrapped it around her. It gave her the first feeling of warmth she’d experienced since the rain started falling.

“We’re not trapped. I already made sure of that,” he told her with a reassuring gesture. “We’re far enough from the bank so we don’t have to worry about flooding. I packed us plenty of dry goods in case we got stuck. I also know these parts so we can get to the nearest backroads of we have to.”

“Good thing I went to the bathroom down by the river,” she muttered.

“This isn’t the first heavy storm I’ve waited out, either. I’ve been in rougher places with people who aren’t half as tough as you.”

“Funny,” Claire scoffed. “I’m not feeling too tough right now.”

“Babe, you wouldn’t have come out here with me if you weren’t tougher than most,” he told her.

“I thought I came with you because you said I needed to get away from work, home, and pretty much everything else.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason. I’m still hoping I can give you more before tomorrow morning.”

There was that country boy sincerity again. It was so hard to resent. Being so wet and cold, Claire couldn’t help but lean into his warmth either. Between his strength and his imposing physique, typical of that of man who did heavy lifting on an oil rig, there was so much strength in his presence. She needed that strength, as well as the warmth that came with it.

As they huddled close, Brent turned on one of their LED camp lamps. That brought some welcome light to the dreary ambience around them. The howling winds, the pouring rain, and the frequent thunder created a feeling of chaos and danger. In her youth, she would’ve braved that. In her current state, it just made her feel vulnerable.

“I know this isn’t entirely want I promised you,” Brent said. “Believe me, I wanted this to be peaceful, quiet, and relaxing.”

“On that, I trust you,” said Claire with a sigh.

“This was supposed to be a weekend to get away from it all,” he went on, “no work, no cell phones, no distractions, and above all…no complications. Out here, it’s just survive and adapt. No bills to pay. No needless chores. Nothing elaborate that needs us to be more than we are.”

“Is that why you love camping?”

“It’s not about doing something I love doing. It’s about doing something to help the woman I love.”

He hugged her closer in his arms. Despite her dour mood and bad attitude, Brent still embraced her with those powerful arms of his. That didn’t just provide her with some badly needed warmth. It reminded her why she loved this man.

“I don’t deserve a boyfriend like you, Brent,” Claire said.

“Don’t say that. I like to think people earn the love of the right people,” he said.

“Well, by that standard, I don’t think I’ve done my part.”

“Now why do you say that? Just because things aren’t going well on our first camping trip doesn’t mean you’ve failed. Shit like this is totally beyond our control.”

“It’s not about control. It’s how I reacted when I don’t have it. Hell, the more I think about it, the more surprised I am that I didn’t have a breakdown much sooner.”

It sounded so pathetic, getting so overwhelmed by a simple storm during a camping trip. Having only arrived at the site a few hours ago, she’d barely gotten a chance to enjoy the peace and quiet. It still felt like she’d carried all those burdens from back home with her and was taking that out on Brent, a man who went out of his way to help her.

That didn’t stop him from holding her closer. If anything, he seemed more determined to shelter her through the raging storm. That comforted her, but it also reminded her of how messed up she’d been.

“Since we’ve been together – and even a little before that – I’ve become way more uptight than I thought possible,” she went on. “Hell, I used to be adventurous. The younger me would’ve taken this trip with you after our second date.”

“I still see traces of that girl in you, Claire,” he told her.

“Well, you must be looking in the wrong places because that girl disappeared as soon as her job became the center of her life. Suddenly, I had to be the kind of girl who always controlled a situation.”

“I wouldn’t say you were that bad.”

“Brent, I sent itineraries for our first date. I texted you a list of pizza toppings I absolutely hate. I even set up a schedule for sex.”

Brent opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself before he could get a word out. He ended up laughing awkwardly instead, which would’ve been adorable if another round of thunder hadn’t echoed from outside. To some extent, that further proved her point.

“The point is…the girl you first met was only in the process of becoming this uptight workaholic,” she continued. “You actually got to watch her become the basket case she is now.”

“Hey, there’s still some good in that girl too,” he said, affectionately caressing her face. “We all need a little order in our lives. That’s a big part of why I fell in love with you. I think there’s room for both those girls.”

“I want to believe that too. I need some goddamn balance back in my life, both for my sanity and for you. I love you too much to be the kind of girl who just whines when things don’t go her way.”

“And I love you too much to let you become that girl,” Brent said. “I want to help you get a hold of yourself…to be the girl who didn’t mind taking chances and the girl who can get a hold of herself during a storm.”

“You really think that’s possible for me?” Claire asked, still skeptical.

“I know so. Things is…it isn’t up to me how you go about it. I’m just here to give you chances. It’s up to you to decide what you want to do with them.”

An extra loud gust of wind howled outside their tent, as though nature were trying to add urgency to her choice. Claire found herself tensing up and clinging to Brent a little harder, taking in more of his warmth and adjusting to a situation that she could not control.

In doing so, she looked up at his rugged complexion. There was so much strength in his demeanor, along with facial hair and scars from his work. It showed that he was a man who didn’t mind braving danger and enduring hardship. It reflected his strength as well as his manly sex appeal. Even in the midst of a storm, it had an effect on her.

At the same time, though, that effect revealed something unexpected to her. The raging storm, the stress from work, and the man who’d gone out of his way to be with her – it all sent her a message, one that she’d refused to heed.

“Make a decision,” she said distantly.

In that moment, gazing up at her boyfriend as more lightning flashed outside, a new feeling inside her…one she hadn’t felt in quite some time. That fun-loving, adventurous girl she’d been in her youth finally emerged from her workaholic shell. That version of Claire Conners had to make this decision and the person she’d since become had to accept it.

“Brent,” Claire said after the latest round of thunder passed.

“Yes, Claire?” he asked, still gazing at the LED lamp.

“Make love to me,” she told him.

Brent turned and looked at her as though she’d just grown a second head. That had probably been the last decision from her that he expected to hear. He even blinked a few times in disbelief.

“Um…come again?”

“You heard me, Brent,” Claire said. “Make love to me…in this tent…during a major storm.”

That sounded even crazier when she put it into words, but she remained dead serious. Claire slipped her arms around his neck and leaned in closer, letting him know that he’d heard right and she meant what she said. She really did want him to make love to her at that very moment.

“That’s bold, reckless, and downright impulsive for you, Claire…and I like it!” said Brent.

“Is that your country boy way of saying you’ll do me?” she said clinging to him with more desperation.

“It can be for this and all future camping trips.”

Seeming totally convinced, Brent kissed her passionately on the lips, his wet hair and beard now right in her face. She eagerly kissed back, finding that disheveled feeling an unexpected turn-on. Maybe it was because she’d made the decision on a whim, surrounded by natural chaos she couldn’t control, that it made her so hot.

Dread gave way to excitement. That excitement was fueled by passion as their kissing quickly escalated. The blanket still around her, she pounced onto her lover, throwing her legs around her waist so that he had to take her fully into his arms. From there, they laid down atop her open sleeping back. More kissing followed, soon evolving into full-blown foreplay.

Before long, that wet, cold feeling from being soaked turned into something else. Suddenly, Claire felt a new warmth in her core, one awakened by both her decision and her passions. It made her more aware of her wet, uncomfortable clothes. Even in pouring rain and howling winds, she had to get them off.

“Get undressed,” she said urgently. “I need to feel your skin on mine!”

“That…should help preserve body heat,” said Brent, already sounding dazed.

“Yeah, let that be the reason for getting naked together,” Claire teased.

They both laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed during this trip. She kept on laughing as she rose up from Brent, still on top of him, and slid off her short-sleeved T-shirt and unhooked her bra. As soon as her breasts were exposed to the cold, Brent reached up and fondled them with those burly hands of his. They both kept them warm and added to her arousal.

“So strong and warm,” Claire purred, “just what I needed.”

As Brent rubbed her breasts, she went to work undressing him, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and undoing the belt buckle to his pants. He eagerly shifted his body under her, getting that wet shirt off and pushing down on his pants to get them off. She eagerly assisted, leaving him in a pair of boxers that had been soaked by the storm as well.

Now exposed and clearly in need of some warmth as well, Brent took the initiative, as only he could, and wrapped his powerful arms around her once more. They kissed again, her exposed upper body making contact with his chiseled, hairy chest. It filled her with a fresh round of warmth, just in time for another round of thunder, no less. That quickly became background noise as the foreplay continued.

As their lips and tongues twirled, Brent laid her down on top of the sleeping bag and helped her undo her denim shorts. He then pulled them down her legs, along with her panties, rendering her completely naked. Brent quickly removed his boxers as well, revealing an already sizable erection. Being alone, in nature, and with his girlfriend really turned him on. Something about that just brought a smile to her face.

“Does getting naked with a beautiful woman really make you that horny?” Claire teased.

“Would it be weird if I said yes?” he replied sheepishly.

“I guess that depends on how well you make love to me now.”

“Good to know.”

He replied as though she’d just challenged him, giving him extra incentive to make their lovemaking extra special. She hadn’t intended to send that massage, but she was more than happy to accept the results.

Now naked, still wet and surrounded by muggy cold, Brent pulled the top layer of the sleeping back over top their bodies and got on top of her. Like a miniature cocoon, they were insulated from the elements and he made good use of it.

Now a man on a mission, he got on top of her, kissing and touching her with the utmost passion. So much of his naked body touched hers, conveying both badly-needed warmth and growing desire. He felt up the curves of her feminine frame with one hand while slipping the other between her legs, his strong fingers now grazing the folds of her pussy.

“Ooh Brent!” she gasped. “Your making me so wet!”

“Not because of the rain, I hope,” he teased.

They laughed again and resumed their kissing. She let out more moans as his fingers slid into her pussy, turning that warmth within her core into real heat. As her body writhed under the weight of growing arousal, she felt his penis getting harder as it rubbed against her thigh. The more their bodies touched and more their hands roamed, the greater the need for his intimate warmth.

Despite the ongoing noise from the rain, wind, and thunder, Brent never lost focus. Claire tried to do her part too, wildly raking her hands over his shoulders and back, providing some heat of her own to supplement his arousal. It might have been the most chaotic situation in which she ever had sex and yet, she’d never wanted it so badly.

“Are you ready, Claire?” Brent finally asked her.

“Yes, Brent. I’m ready!” Claire said without hesitation.

Heeding her words, her rugged lover repositioned himself accordingly. Claire did so as well, spreading her legs and wrapping them around his waist in a more intimate embrace. He then carefully maneuvered himself so that his member was aligned with her wet entrance. Her hands now locked on his shoulders while his eyes remained locked with hers, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ohhh Brent!” Claire moaned.

Her reaction was almost entirely muted by more thunder. It was as though nature was goading her and Brent to make love in the midst of such chaos. Never one to back down from a challenge, Claire gladly rose to the occasion with her lover.

His rigid flesh now deep inside her womanly depths, she kissed him again as their naked bodies began moving together in an intimate union. Even within the confines of a sleeping bag, Brent had plenty of leverage. With each motion her world rocked, his manhood slithering sensually within her womanhood. Their united flesh created more heat – a heat that overpowered any the elements could throw at them.

“Yes! This is what I wanted…what I needed,” she moaned as their naked bodies rocked. “Brent…my love…you kept your promise after all!”

That seemed to motivate him even more. With a grin and a determined glint in his eyes, the burly man stepped up the pace of their sex. Wet naked skin meshed and glided together with ease, sweat mixing with the moisture from the storm. It was like taking the discomfort of nature and turning it into their own unique ecstasy. Something about that just felt so right, as well as so pleasurable.

Claire soon found herself sharing in the effort, kissing her lover and raking her nails down his back. She put more energy into this sex than she had since her fun-loving college years. That version of Claire Conners that knew how to have a good time was officially back and she had been missed.

Through the thunder and the howling wind, she and Brent made the kind of energetic love that felt befitting of a raging storm. They rolled around in the sleeping bag, creating so much heat that the sweat form their bodies soon replaced any remaining moisture from the rain. Somewhere along the way, they ended up with her on her side and him spooning her from behind, eagerly pumping his cock into her in a determined push for her climax.

Now clinging to his arms, bucking her hips every time he thrust into her, Claire could already feel that special ecstasy coming on. It came faster than she expected, as if to reflect the chaos around her.

“Brent, I…I’m coming! I’m about to…come!” Claire cried out.

“Me…me too, babe,” Brent said with labored grunts.

The pace of their sex steadied. Her body was like a spark ready to ignite an inferno. During the final push, she locked her hands with his, their fingers becoming entwined like their bodies. Then, with a few more thrusts, he sent her over the edge.

“Ohhhh Brent!” she exclaimed.

At that moment, she made damn sure she was louder than the thunder. A fresh wave of it echoed from the sky just as she entered an orgasmic state. It was no use, though. She was still louder.

In a moan that could probably be heard by all of nature, Claire climaxed. Her lower body erupted in a surge of heat, sending shudders of raw pleasure up through her body. As she contorted to the feeling, Brent came as well, letting out the deepest, manliest grunt she’d ever heard as he shared in the ecstasy.

It was a beautifully intimate moment in the midst of a raging storm, their bodies consumed with pure pleasure. She felt their hot juices mixing inside her, creating a special warmth that felt just perfect for the situation. After being so cold and uncomfortable just a few moments ago, it was a perfect inversion of her situation…one she chose in a moment of adventurous passion.

“I love you, Brent,” she said.

“I love you too, Claire,” Brent replied.

As they caught their breath together, panting heavily as the rain and wind kept making more noise, they kissed again. Clair then rolled over so that she was lying on her side next to him, their naked bodies still entwined within the sleeping bag. Now warm and content, it was safe to say the camping trip had been a success.

“So,” said Brent after their lips parted, “are you officially a fan of camping now?”

“It’s starting to grow on me,” she said playfully. “For the kind of job I have and the kind of boyfriend I have, I think I could make it part of my life.”

“And I promise I’ll make it both appealing and therapeutic.”

“Spoken like a true man of his word,” Claire said affectionately, “ and a man who can brave any storm for the woman he loves.”

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Tagged as erotic, erotic fiction, erotic literature, erotic stories, erotic story, erotica, erotica fiction, erotica literature, erotica romance, erotica stories, erotica story, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, love, love story, romance, sex, sexy, sexy camping, sexy short stories, Sexy Short Story

May 30, 2018 · 3:46 am

“Lessons In Lovemaking” A Sexy Short Story

The following is a short story entitled “Lessons In Lovemaking.” It’s a story inspired, in part, by some recent events surrounding the state of sex education in this country. You’ll see what I mean by the end of the story. Enjoy!

“Are you ready for this, Evelyn?” asked a nervous, but excited Aaron Jay Patterson.

“I think so,” replied his girlfriend, Evelyn Marsh.

“It’s not too late. We can stop right now and forget the whole thing. I’ll even take you to that burger place you love.”

“No, it’s okay, babe,” she said with more certainty. “I am ready. I just…want to do this right.”

“So do I,” he said, casting her a smile, “which is exactly why we’re here.”

The beautiful, radiant woman by his side smiled back. The same woman who’d once laughed at the idea of falling in love with a guy she met at her younger brother’s birthday looked at him with an intensity that made him weak in the knees for all the right reasons. Holding her hand, conveying his love with his touch, he’d been preparing for this moment since their first kiss. It was a moment that just had to be perfect.

That was why, on a hot summer day in June, they took a day off from work and college classes to make an appointment with Dr. Sharon Braddock. It was just past noon when they arrived at the office complex located a couple miles of his apartment. Time slowed to a crawl as they sat together in the room, watching other eager couples come and go.

Those that left often did so with beaming smiles. That was a promising sign in Aaron’s book. He wanted him and Evelyn to be one of those couples. Based on Dr. Braddock’s glowing online reviews, her expertise could only help. She was supposed to be one of the best in the area.

Just making the appointment showed how much his relationship with Evelyn had progressed. He’d had other girlfriends. She freely admitted that she’d had other boyfriends as well. However, neither of them had been in a relationship that made it to this far. It wasn’t unreasonable to say that the outcome of this appointment would determine whether their love and their relationship was serious.

Aaron tried not to think about that as he and Evelyn nervously waited their turn. The waiting room had a TV and good Wi-Fi, but there was only so much he could do to distract himself. He was eager to take this next step with Evelyn.

“Mr. Patterson and Ms. Marsh?” the assistant from behind the secretary’s counter said.

“Yes?” said Aaron, sounding childishly eager.

“Dr. Braddock is ready for you now.”

He and Evelyn exchanged glances again. She was still smiling, but he could tell by her touch that she was as nervous as him. From what his older brother told him about these appointments, it was a normal feeling. He also told him it faded really fast once things got started.

“Let’s go!” Evelyn said, brimming with energy.

“Lead the way, my love,” Aaron said.

Together, they got up and walked through the main door, which lead into a narrow hall. With growing anticipation, they made their way towards a large set of double doors. Upon arriving, the doors automatically opened and entered into Dr. Braddock’s staging area, as it was called. There, they were greeted by a tall, middle-aged woman with an athletic frame, a professional demeanor, and a dead serious look in her eyes.

“Welcome,” the woman said. “I’m Dr. Braddock. Thank you for choosing me as your provider today.”

“Thank you for seeing us,” said Aaron as he and Evelyn took turns shaking her hand.

“We’ve heard a lot of great things about you,” said Evelyn. “My Aunt Helen said her second marriage succeeded because of you.”

“I like to think my results speak for themselves. As such, let’s get started.”

The older woman led them into the area and closed the door behind her. It looked pretty much like Aaron expected. It was fairly spacious, about the same size as the master bedroom at his parents’ house. The windows had been blacked out, the lights had been dimmed, and the décor on the walls was very appropriate, so to speak.

There wasn’t much furniture, aside from a queen-sized bed in the center of the room, a desk in the corner, and a couple of mahogany dressers alongside the walls. It probably wasn’t the best staging area in town, but Aaron didn’t need anything too fancy. He just needed Dr. Braddock to deliver.

“I’ve gone over your respective profiles and determined an appropriate recourse,” she said as she looked over a tablet computer. “I need only your affirmative consent to proceed.”

“You’ve got it,” said Evelyn without hesitation.

“Same here,” said Aaron, matching his girlfriend’s confidence.

“Very well,” said Dr. Braddock. “Then, come this way, please. Get into position while I make the appropriate arrangements.”

Knowing what that meant, Aaron exchanged one last nervous look with Evelyn. He hoped it would be the last. From this point forward, he approached the procedure with the assumption that it would vindicate his and Evelyn’s love.

Confident in his mindset, he and Evelyn walked over to the side of the bed and stood in front of one another. He faced her and she faced him, awaiting the doctor’s instructions and trying to contain his desire for the woman before him.

“According to your file, you two have been romantically involved for six months and nine days,” Dr. Braddock said, now standing in front of her desk.

“That’s correct,” said Aaron.

“It says you both have been involved in previous relationships,” she said. “Am I correct in stating that at least one of those relationships included sexual intercourse?”

“That’s correct too,” said Aaron. “I’ve had sex with one other woman. It was during high school and it was only three times.”

“Same here,” Evelyn said. “It was just after high school and twice with two different men.”

“Would you consider any of those encounters explicitly romantic?”

“Nope,” Aaron said simply.

“No, definitely not,” said Evelyn.

“Would you say they were pleasurable, even if they weren’t particularly satisfying?” Dr. Braddock asked.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s accurate,” said Evelyn.

“Same here,” said Aaron. “I don’t remember them being that special. Guess that’s why we’re here.”

“Indeed,” said Dr. Braddock, typing notes into her laptop with a stern professional demeanor.

The older woman entered something into the computer on her desk. Then, she downloaded it into her tablet. Aaron kept facing Evelyn. They were standing so close that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. He fought the urge to just throw his arms around her and vent his passions on the spot.

Aaron took a deep breath and restrained himself, though. He reminded himself why he and Evelyn were doing this. It was an important step for every couple. He saw it as one of the most serious efforts he’d taken on in his adult life. He and Evelyn had worked hard on their love. He had every intention of working harder for this.

After going over more data on her tablet, Dr. Braddock walked over from her desk so that she stood at the head of the bed. Then, with a professional demeanor that would’ve made his old gym teacher proud, she addressed him and Evelyn.

“I’ve compiled your data. The procedure is ready,” Dr. Braddock said. “Do you wish to begin?”

“Yes,” said Aaron intently.

“Hell yes!” said Evelyn, her tone brimming with energy.

“Very well,” the older woman said. “First step in the process…take off each other’s clothes. Do not remove anything on your body. Rely exclusively on your lover. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Doctor,” he and Evelyn said simultaneously.

Aaron and his love did as instructed. Evelyn undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off over his head with ease. He undid her tight-fitting denim pants and pushed them down her shapely legs, giving her room to wiggle out of them. She was even a little playful with it, but only to a point. She understood as well as him that this was serious and they had to treat it as such.

Piece by piece, he and Evelyn took turns stripping one another. He took off her shirt. She took off his pants. They even alternated when taking off their shoes and socks. That might have been a bit too formal, but under Dr. Braddock’s critical eye, it couldn’t hurt to be extra thorough.

Once down to their underwear, though, Aaron let himself get a little affectionate. He slipped in closer to her warmth as he reached around to undo her bra, grinning affectionately at her as their naked skin touched. She smiled back, giggling a little as she pushed his boxers down to his ankles. That smile only widened when he did the same with her panties, pulling them down those shapely legs of hers and exposing his love in all her glory.

It might have been the most mundane part of the procedure. He’d seen a naked woman before. He and Evelyn had even seen each other naked on multiple occasions. He made no secret of how much he enjoyed the sight of her exposed breasts, her heart-shaped butt, and her womanly curves. She was just as vocal about her fondness for his slim, yet muscular build.

“Remain close to one another,” Dr. Braddock said, her voice very official. “Take a moment to admire one another’s bodies. Complement each other on the parts you enjoy.”

Aaron laughed to himself. That wasn’t going to be too hard. Evelyn had so many features he admired, physical and otherwise.

“You have great breasts, Evelyn,” he told her. “They’re so nice and round.”

“You have a great butt, Aaron,” she told him. “It’s so strong and compact.”

“You’ve got a great butt too. I admire it a lot when you’re not looking.”

“I do the same. Why else do you think I love wearing tight jeans?”

She snickered like a couple of giddy school children, but remained as focused as him. Aaron’s eyes drifted up and down her body, scrutinizing her nude figure from head to toe. It made him want so badly to reach out, touch her, and feel her hot flesh. For all he knew, that might have even been the point.

“Now, go ahead and embrace each other,” Dr. Braddock instructed. “Do not kiss. Simply touch. Give special focus to the breasts, buttocks, and genitals. You are lovers now. That means opening yourselves and being open to one another.”

The way she said it made it sound so official, as though they had just graduated from a casual romance to something more serious. That made the experience of touching his lover’s body that much more meaningful, not to mention arousing.

Like gravity pulling them together, Aaron snaked his arms around Evelyn’s waist while she pawed his chest. With growing desire in his eyes, he affectionately grasped her butt while she traced her finger down the sinews of his upper body. She soon made her way down to his torso, eventually reaching his penis, which she lovingly took in both hands. He let out a slight gasp under her touch, which encouraged her to grasp it harder. That, in turn, got him to squeeze her butt, evoking a soft purr from her lover.

He could already feel the lust escalating between them. Every touch felt so hot. Aaron felt his heart rate jump, half the blood in his body rushing downward, causing his penis to become erect. Within that escalating feeling, their naked bodies pressed up against one another like the opposite poles of two magnets coming together. Not kissing her made it somewhat strange, but that might have been a good thing because it gave them a chance to really admire one another’s beauty.

“Aaron…please,” Evelyn whispered, “touch me here.”

Not waiting for him to react, she lightly grasped his wrist and guided his hand between her legs. It marked the first time he touched his love’s private areas. He knew as much about female anatomy as any man with an internet connection, but the feeling of touching the one that belonged to his girlfriend carried extra meaning to it.

“You’re hot already,” Aaron commented, trying hard not to react too strongly.

“And you’re hard,” she said, giving his member a lightly squeeze.

“Don’t be too overt,” Dr. Braddock told them. “It’s good to vocalize some arousal, but let the touching do the talking. Use that to get each other sufficiently aroused.”

He and Evelyn fell silent, but continued sharing affectionate moans as they explored each other’s bodies. They weren’t quite as casual as they’d been when taking each other’s clothes off. He found himself being more careful, as though his lover’s body was a precious relic that required the utmost care. She treated his the same, but Evelyn was a bit more enthusiastic.

Like an athlete getting their second wind, she became bolder with her touching. While still fondling his cock with one hand, she trailed the other all over his body, feeling around his arms, shoulders, back, and butt. Aaron knew Evelyn was an affectionate persona, but he had no idea she could convey so much with touch alone.

He tried to return the favor, lightly stroking the tender flesh between her thighs and feeling up the curves of her body. With each new bit of skin he felt, Aaron’s passion for her grew. It was like seeking the warmth of a fire on a cold winter day, wanting so much to embrace that warmth, but not able to get close enough. That too might have been intentional.

“For effective, pleasurable lovemaking,” Dr. Braddock said, “trust must come before desire and desire must come before intimacy. Your respective passions, as well as your personalities, are uniquely adept at complementing one another. Channeling that feeling will ensure maximum intimacy.”

The woman’s expertise showed. Aaron could already sense his passion for Evelyn intensify to new levels. The way she looked at him was unlike any look he’d ever gotten from a woman. Just being horny and aroused wasn’t enough. He sought more from his love.

“With that in mind, get onto the bed and proceed with your foreplay,” Dr. Braddock told them. “This time, incorporate kissing into your gestures. Convey both your passions and your desire for intimacy.”

Her instructions were so simple, yet seemed so daunting. That didn’t make Aaron any less determined to see it through, though. If anything, it encouraged him and his lover.

His legs already weak from arousal, he and Evelyn climbed onto the bed together. They remained in a partial embrace, not wanting to part from her loving warmth. Whether by accident or instinct, he found himself sitting in the center of the mattress with her, their arms and legs entwined in somewhat messy convergence of flesh. It was like they didn’t know what to do with all their passion and desire.

“You heard the doctor, Aaron. Kiss me,” Evelyn said.

That was just the reminder he needed. Before they fully settled into the bed, he captured her lips with his in a powerful kiss. It wasn’t the most desperate kiss they’d ever shared, but it conveyed the right emotions and incurred the right impact.

As soon as their lips tongued and their tongues twirled, a more thorough round of foreplay unfolded. Aaron more freely explored his lover’s body, fondling her breasts and trailing his fingers over the ticklish parts of her skin. Evelyn did the same, showing a bit more urgency. The way her nails raked over his neck and shoulders, he could literally feel how much she wanted him.

“You’re doing well,” Dr. Braddock said. “You’re building both anticipation while communicating affection. That, in turn, gives meaning to the pleasure you’re about to give one another.”

Encouraged by her words – the idea of sharing such feelings with his lover and making it feel good – Aaron stepped up the pace of his foreplay as well. It was getting pretty heated. He didn’t just feel Evelyn’s desire in her kiss. He felt the extent of her arousal, the passionate energy radiating from her body and the moist heat from between her legs. His arousal was pretty obvious too, as if there was any way to hide a full-fledged erection.

As heated as their passions had grown, though, Aaron still listened intently to Dr. Braddock’s instructions. He hadn’t forgotten why they came here or why he and Evelyn decided to do this.

“The next step will set the tone for that pleasure,” she said. “Mr. Patterson, lie down on your back. Ms. Marsh, got on top of them. From there, give each other mutual oral sex.”

“Isn’t the official term for that a 69?” joked Aaron.

“I don’t go by what’s official. I go by what’s necessary,” she said, still as serious as ever. “Proceed with your oral sex. Please, for the time being, refrain from climaxing.”

“Yes, Doctor,” said Evelyn, not sounding nearly as serious.

Their lips having parted, they shared a playful grin before repositioning themselves accordingly. As instructed, Aaron got on his back and Evelyn got on top of her. That left him face-to-face with her pussy and her with a perfect view of his cock. Still approaching the procedure as important as any other, Aaron went to work eating his lover out.

“Mmm…my love,” she purred as she took his manhood in both hands.

“That’s it,” Dr. Braddock said. “Be gentle, but focused. Get a feel for your lover’s anatomy. Make an effort to memories those intricacies. You’ll need them for later.”

Now more motivated than ever, Aaron channeled his love for Evelyn and his moderate understanding of the female body to give her the pleasure he wanted. He was very careful at first, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm his lover. He quickly found out that she wasn’t as sensitive as he thought. She responded quite favorably to targeted, fervent stimulation.

As he got a feel for how his lover liked to be teased, Evelyn did her part as well. With both hands gripping his shaft, she began suckling along the length of his cock. Like him, she started slowly, emphasizing quality over quantity. She quickly learned that he enjoyed a little energy with his sex. When she sucked him harder, he returned the favor with some extra thorough oral teasing.

Soon, the staging area echoed with muffled moans of bliss. It was like a perfect cycle of sorts, a circle pleasure that complemented their passions. It helped satiate some desires while intensifying others, adding a new layer of intimacy to their act.

As the cycle continued, hot sensations compounding every intimate feeling, Dr. Braddock kept taking notes. She watched the scene before them like an impartial observer. Aaron had no idea what she was writing. He just knew he had to memorize every intricate kink that made his lover moan with delight.

Aaron wasn’t sure how long Dr. Braddock would have them go at it. For all he knew, he was racing against the clock, needing to get his lover to a level of arousal before a certain point. Evelyn had already worked him to a state of peak arousal, forcing him to restrain himself from climaxing too quickly. He had to work quickly, touching and teasing her pussy with every ounce of effort to get her to that special place.

“For maximum intimacy, you must guide your bodies into a similar state of being,” Dr. Braddock told them. “That way, you can share the breadth of the feeling.”

The older woman stopped writing down notes. With his face still buried in his lover’s pussy and his cock still deep in her mouth, Aaron never lost focus, waiting for that moment when his body and Evelyn’s would be in sync. It was hard to tell, but that was why they had a professional present.

“You’re both doing very well, thus far,” the older woman said. “It’s time for the last and most important step. Mr. Patterson and Ms. Marsh, cease your oral sex and reposition yourselves as follows – Ms. Marsh, lie down on your back and spread your legs while Mr. Patterson gets on top of you.”

“Yes, Doctor!” they both said, intense desire having long since replaced playful spirit.

Now fully intoxicated by his passion and lust for this woman, Aaron coordinated his body with Evelyn’s at an efficiency that would’ve made his drill sergeant uncle proud. Evelyn couldn’t get on her back fast enough, lying down in the center of the bed and spreading her legs as wide as her old gymnastic skills would allow. Aaron then got on top of her, his face hovering just inches over hers as he caressed her hands in his.

“Now, Mr. Patterson, enter your partner,” Dr. Braddock said. “Use your hands to hold her legs apart. Ms. Marsh, hold onto your partner’s shoulders to provide leverage.”

Like an order from a higher power, Aaron shifted his grip to his love’s thighs and guided his manhood towards her wet entrance. Then, with a steady thrust of the hips, his manly flesh filled her womanly depths. The hot sensations that followed were a feeling like no other.

“Oh Evelyn!” he gasped.

“Aaron!” Evelyn moaned.

As they took in that powerful moment, Dr. Braddock wrote down something else. Then, her gaze narrowed on him as though she were about to give him the most important message of his life.

“Your bodies are entwined. Start moving together,” she said. “Work your penis within her vagina. Use the knowledge you gained earlier to stimulate your partner’s depths. Do it with the intent of giving her an orgasm.”

“Yes…Doctor,” said Aaron.

Overwhelmed with energy and desires, he began making love to the beautiful woman under him. He dug his knees and feet into the soft mattress, clinging firmly to her thighs as he worked his body against hers in a fervent sexual rhythm. With every movement came a rush of blissful sensations. With those sensations came heightened passions. At that moment, Aaron felt more connected to this woman than he had with anyone else before.

As gasps and grunts filled the room, her loving gaze locked onto his. She clung hard to his shoulders, providing just the right amount of leverage for every motion. In between the passionate moans, they shared affectionate kisses. For such an intimate feeling, it was like icing on top of an already delicious cake.

“Keep the pace of your sex steady,” Dr. Braddock said. “Don’t be afraid to go a little faster, either. Extra stimulation is often necessary for greater pleasure, particularly to those within your personal profile.”

Aaron still took that suggestion as a command. He dug his feet into the bed harder and increased the tempo of their sex. He didn’t do it too hard, but it was still hard enough to rock the bed. If Evelyn’s louder moans were any indication, he was doing something right.

“Aaron…my love! Like that! Just…just like that!” she moaned.

“You hear that, Mr. Patterson? I believe you’ve found her preferred tempo,” Dr. Braddock said. “Now, with that in mind, make sure you stimulate her clit to facilitate orgasm. Most women do not climax from penetration alone. Ms. Marsh is one of them.”

Always one to be thorough, especially when it came to the woman he loved, Aaron followed Dr. Braddock’s instructions. He released his grip on one of her thighs and used his fingers to rub Evelyn’s clitoris with the same rhythmic intensity as their sex. The impact of those efforts was almost immediate.

“Oohhh Aaron!” Evelyn exclaimed. “You’re going to make me come! You’re going to…make me…come!”

Hearing those beautiful words in that beautiful voice made Aaron feel like a star athlete about to win the race. With grit and determination, he intensified their love-making, being more thorough with every thrust of his hips. He watched in awe as his love’s expression tensed and contorted to the oncoming pleasure. He was close too, but he badly wanted to see her go first.

“Your partner is about to orgasm, Mr. Patterson,” Dr. Braddock said. “You can stop withholding yours, if you haven’t already. Try to time your release with hers. It doesn’t have to be simultaneous. It just has to be close.”

Aaron hadn’t realized how close he was to his own release. Getting the go-ahead from Dr. Braddock seemed to remind him. He was almost ready, but he refused to cross that threshold before his lover.

With greater focus, Aaron pumped his manhood into Evenly’s pussy harder, applying more pressure to her clit. Being so in tuned with her – physically, emotionally, and sexually – he could practically feel her peak approaching. When it finally arrived, he watched with utmost pride as his love closed her eyes, threw her head back, and cried out to the heavens in ecstasy.

“Ohhh Aaron!”

It was nothing short of angelic, the look on her face when she came. Her lower back arched, her toes curled, and nails dug into his shoulders, as though he were her lifeboat in an ocean of ecstasy. In addition to the visual spectacle, he felt the hard contractions of her inner muscles around his dick. With just a few more thrusts, that gave him the push he needed to achieve his peak as well.

“Evelyn…I’m coming!” he moaned.

At that moment, time stopped and so did his world. His body tensed and shuddered as an eruption of hot pleasure surged through him. Aaron had experienced plenty of orgasms before, but this one felt extra special. All the anticipation, the effort, and the exertion paid off. His love for Evelyn took a real, tangible form and it felt amazing.

Together, he and his love writhed in the pleasure, their bodies reverberating together in an intimate heat. It felt like a true culmination of their relationship, literally and figuratively. They’d come to Dr. Braddock to make sure they did it right. Who knew doing something so right could feel so good?

“Congratulations,” Dr. Braddock said, finally cracking a smile. “You two have successfully made love to each other.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said Aaron breathlessly.

“You…are a true expert,” said Evelyn, still in an orgasmic daze.

“I simply evaluate, inform, and instruct, as any competent sex doctor does,” she said as she wrote down a few more notes. “With the completion of your first lesson, I can prescribe a recommended regiment for lovemaking. Given what I’ve observed, I suggest you two make love at least three times a week. Also, start sleeping naked if you haven’t already.”

“We haven’t,” said Aaron, “but I’m looking forward to it now.”

“Me too!” said Evelyn playfully. “Doctor’s orders, after all.”

They shared a playful laugh, already settling into their post-lovemaking afterglow. As Aaron withdrew his flesh from his lover, he kissed her passionately to cap off a successful and critical experience.

As they shared that moment, their naked bodies entwined on the bed of a sex doctor’s office, Aaron took a moment to appreciate the time in which he lived. He and Evelyn resided in a world where couples didn’t have to fumble around on their own in learning how to make love. There were experienced professionals to help them skip all that awkwardness. How his parents and everyone before them managed sex without such resources was beyond him.

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Tagged as Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, love, love stories, love story, making love, novella, novels, romance, romance novel, romance stories, sex, sexy, sexy doctor, sexy short stories, Sexy Short Story, short stories, short story

May 18, 2018 · 5:14 am

Sexy Short Story: Maximum Effort (Inspired By Deadpool)

The following is a sexy short story I wrote entitled, “Maximum Effort.” Like “Avenging Desire” before it, this was inspired by a superhero movie, specifically “Deadpool 2.” As such, expect an appropriately crude, but inherently sexy tale. Enjoy!

“One more, Stan!” said Wendy Maxwell from across the bar.

“Just one more?” the middle-aged man asked with a crooked grin.

“You heard me right. I’m saving my appetite tonight,” she said proudly. “Deadpool 2 is one movie I want to stay hungry for!”

“You sure you want to say that out loud?” he joked.

“I know what I said. I’m not taking it back.”

Wendy spoke with a certainty that left no room for argument, even from her Uncle Stan. He owned one of the best sports bars in town, which happened to be right across the street from the High-Max Cinema movie theater. She could see the oversized complex out the window and couldn’t wait to make her way inside in a few hours. She planned to be among the first in line to see Deadpool 2.

She’d cleared her schedule for the day, taking off work and taking care of any errands that might create a distraction. She’d also made it a point to pre-order her ticket and reserve the best possible seats in the biggest IMAX theater within a 25-mile radius of her house. She could’ve just gone to the one at the mall that was closer, but in the spirit of Deadpool himself, Wendy approached seeing this movie with maximum effort.

“I got to say, Wendy,” her Uncle Stan said from behind the bar, “I didn’t peg you for the superhero fan. A few years ago, I don’t think you knew the difference between Spider-Man and Batman.”

“What can I say?” she said. “A lot can change in the span of a few years.”

“I’ll say!” her uncle said. “One day, you’re agonizing over which generic action flick you can tolerate with your friends. The next, you’re prepared to drop kick someone who tries to buy the last Deadpool-themed bra.”

“You sound so proud,” Wendy teased. “My mom is convinced I’m just overcompensating after my ex-boyfriend ditched me for his roommate’s sister.”

“Eh, what does she know? You’re more self-aware than she ever was.”

“Kind of like Deadpool himself!” she pointed out.

“No argument here.”

Wendy laughed as her uncle poured her one last cup of coffee before. She’d just about finished her dinner, which consisted of a small sandwich and some soup. It was light, but for good reason. She didn’t just want to save room for popcorn. She wanted to make sure she didn’t miss a second of the movie. That meant minimizing the risk of bathroom breaks, drowsiness, and an upset stomach.

She had never taken such elaborate precautions for a movie before. Then again, she’d never been so enthusiastic about a movie, either. That was before she saw the first Deadpool movie two years ago. She actually hadn’t intended to see it. Her now ex-boyfriend had bought them tickets to see it. Then, the day before the premier, he dumped her, but left her the ticket.

Never one to turn down a free movie, she just went and saw it. From the very beginning, with that hilariously vulgar opening credits scene, Wendy was hooked. She had no idea who Deadpool was or why the movie was such a big deal. By the time it ended, though. She was hooked. She needed to laugh. She needed to see something crude, funny, and vulgar after her breakup. Deadpool was the perfect medicine.

After that day, she became a full-fledged Deadpool fan. She started buying Deadpool comics, following Deadpool-related forms, and even found herself getting into the larger world of superhero comics. It helped that her brother loved comics. He helped catch her up and even got her into cos-playing at a comic book convention last year. It had been so much fun and it all started with Deadpool.

For Wendy, seeing Deadpool 2 was like completing a process. She’d been such a workaholic after graduating college, pulling long hours at the software company she worked at. Her former boyfriend got her to lighten up somewhat, but it was Deadpool who helped her achieve a greater epiphany.

“Maximum effort…for the right reasons,” Wendy said to herself with a smile before finishing the last of her sandwich.

It had been one of the many memorable lines from the first movie. She was good at giving lots of effort, but never with much passion. Deadpool, both the character in the comics and the one Ryan Reynolds brought to life in the movie, channeled his passion and wit into everything he did. Whether it was shooting up Ajax’s crew or trying to hook up with Death herself in the comics, he did everything with personality.

That helped Wendy so much, both in her professional life and her personal life. She’d made more friends, done better at work, and even embraced a more distinct dress style. For the Deadpool 2 premier, she’d dyed parts of her hair red, wore a Deadpool-themed halter top, and even wore Deadpool-themed underwear.

It might have been quirky for most, but it helped that she was far from the only one in her Uncle’s bar. Looking around, she saw a lot of fellow Deadpool fans showing off their attire. Some were dressed in costumes. Some were showing off their Deadpool-themed tattoos. Everyone seemed to share in the excitement, but Wendy doubted that excitement was as intimate or personal.

As she wiped her hands on her napkin, her Uncle Stan arrived with the coffee. Once served, she took a quick sip and held it up proudly.

“To Deadpool,” she said to her Uncle, “the man who got me through some tough times and helped me put maximum effort into being awesome.”

“Cheers to that, Wendy,” her Uncle Stan said, rolling her eyes. “You talk about the guy like he’s your crush instead of a comic book character.”

“What can I say? He made me laugh at a time when I was crying over my ex. He inspired me to laugh at the overall absurdities of life. He even got me to dye my hair for the first time since high school. And nobody needed to dare me!”

“I’m glad he’s been such a positive influence. Just don’t start measuring all the men in your life to the same standards as comic book characters or Ryan Reynolds.”

“Relax, Uncle Stan!” Wendy said as she took another sip of her coffee. “I intend to maintain the positivity. I mean, it’s not like I’ll just up and fuck the first guy who dresses like Deadpool and talks like Ryan Reynolds or something.”

The older man laughed and shook his head before going back to serving other customers. Wendy went back to finishing her coffee, occasionally checking her phone to see how much longer she would have to wait. She still had a solid two hours before the movie. It promised to be an agonizing wait, but with each passing second she grew more excited.

“It’s almost here!” she said to herself. “Deadpool 2 is almost here! God, I wish there was a way to make the wait go faster.”

Moments after saying those words, I figure walked up to the bar next to her. He seemed to come out of nowhere. He was tall, well-built, and wearing a full-bodied Deadpool costume the likes of which she hadn’t seen since that comic book convention she went to with her brother. It looked like a perfect duplicate of the costume Ryan Reynolds wore in the first Deadpool movie.

“Hey bartender!” the man in the costume called out. “Whose balls do you have to fondle to pay the check? And for the record…yes, I moisturize!”

Wendy’s heart skipped a beat and her panties got a little warmer. She swore that voice sounded just like Ryan Reynolds, but it couldn’t be him. For one, the man in the costume looked taller than Ryan and there was no way big Hollywood star would be at her Uncle’s small-time bar, especially one married to Blake Lively.

At the same time, however, she found herself staring at him intently. Someone who put that much effort into a costume must have at least half her appreciation of all things Deadpool. Even after one of her uncle’s other bartenders came buy and processed his check, he still carried himself like the Merc with a Mouth himself.

“Hey,” Wendy called out. “How many times have you asked about ball-fondling today?”

The man in the suit turned towards her and seemed immediately intrigued. Even through that mask, Wendy sensed him smiling.

“That depends,” he replied jokingly. “Do you consider yourself for or against? How important is it to you that balls be fondled?”

“Well, it wasn’t that important to me until a few years ago,” Wendy said, mirroring his tone.

“A few years ago? You mean the same time that saint of a man, Ryan Reynolds, cracked a joke about it in the first Deadpool movie?”

“Oh, it was no joke to me. If making that move required fondling Wolverine’s balls, be they Hugh Jackman’s or anyone who looks like him, then I say ball fondling has proved its worth!”

They both laughed. The man barely even noticed when the bartender gave him his check back. Now leaning on the side of the bar, he leaned in a little closer. Again, she sensed a unique look through his mask. He was still smiling at her and in a very flirtatious way. The fact he smelled like fresh chimichangas – which had become her favorite snack food, by default – certainly helped.

“I take it from the dyed hair, the Hot Topic shirt, and the appreciation of ball-fondling jokes that you’re as excited about Deadpool 2 as me,” the man said.

“Well, I’d certainly say I’m excited, but you being as excited?” Wendy questioned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For one, I don’t’ see a boner in your pants. Trust me, if I was a man. I’d be so hard right now I’d have to wear a dress.”

“You don’t say?” he said with a laugh. “So you’ve been glancing at my man parts?”

“Are you going to tell me that you’re not looking down my shirt right now, hoping your mask will hide it?”

Wendy, showing more playfulness that would’ve made Deadpool proud, leaned in closer so that her breasts were plainly visible through her halter top. She didn’t even need to gaze through his mask. She knew he liked what he saw. He didn’t even try to avoid it.

“I’ll plead the fifth on that,” he said. “I’ll also plead that you’re not here with someone…like, for instance, a jealous boyfriend who has the muscle mass of Colossus.”

“I’m alone,” she told him with a flirty look. “In fact, I’ve been single since I saw the first Deadpool movie.”

“Really? A pretty girl like you, one who’s willing to wear Deadpool-themed clothes that blatantly show off your breasts, is single? I find that hard to believe. And I know someone who paid to see the Green Lantern movie.”

“Believe it!” Wendy said confidently. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that Deadpool has been the most important man in my life since my last breakup. You could say he’s become a passion of mine.”

“A passion?” he said with more intrigue. “Are we talking stamp collecting here or the kind that requires a spare pair of panties?”

“I own a vibrator that I’ve covered in no fewer than 16 Deadpool stickers. What do you think?”

Wendy hadn’t intended to sound that dirty, but she couldn’t help herself. Between her excitement surrounding Deadpool 2 and the man looking and sounding so much like Deadpool, her passion for the character was mixing with other passions. It also wasn’t lost on her that she hadn’t had sex since she broke up with her ex-boyfriend. On the night of a new Deadpool movie, it seemed more relevant.

She felt the gaze of the man in the costume narrow. She even swore she saw a slight bulge in his pants. She wasn’t exactly being subtle, but neither was he. Maybe that was just a byproduct of dressing like Deadpool, but it still did the trick. It still got her hotter than Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively in a sauna.

“I think,” the man said in a deeper tone, “that we might be able to help each other.”

“Are you saying you have more stickers?” she quipped in a flirty tone.

“I’m saying I’m here by myself as well. I had a girlfriend, but she didn’t care for Deadpool movies. She even tried to make me throw this costume away.”

“Sounds like a total bitch. You were right to dump her.”

“I haven’t regretted it for a second,” he said, “although I can’t say the same for my penis. It’s been lonely, to say the least, and there’s only so much I can do with hand lotion and re-watching Van Wilder on cable.”

“That’s so sad.”

“It is,” he said, “but if you know a place nearby that’s private and good at screening awkward noises, I think we can help each other.”

The man leaned in even closer, so much so that she could smell his breath and the manly scent emanating within the costume. It smelled like a mix of tacos, hot sauce, and pure manliness. It proved plenty potent, sending Wendy’s heart and hormones into overdrive.

She’d yet to see the man’s face. She’d yet to even get his name. However, he was dressed as Deadpool, had a clear appreciation of all things Deadpool, and appreciated his mannerisms. On a night when Wendy was determined to celebrate all things Deadpool, the idea of fucking a guy dressed like him just seemed too fitting.

It was reckless, crude, and something Deadpool would totally do. Wendy, feeling adventurous in a way that only Deapdool could inspire, decided to take a chance. After all, she still had plenty of time between now and the movie premier. Why not try to pass the time with a little Deadpool-themed kink?

“As it just so happens,” Wendy said with a seductive glance, “there’s an isolated little nook out back…one only I know about because my uncle trusts me way too damn much.”

“Hmm…that could work,” the man said with growing excitement.

“I’ll take you there under one condition.”

“Name it! And I promise that’s not just my penis talking.”

“You keep that costume on. That includes the mask,” she told him. “Also, I don’t want you to give me your real name or anything. Just let me call you Wade.”

“Keep the costume on, keep my name secret, and let you call me Wade,” he said, pretending to think about it, “all in exchange for some kinky sex. Normally, I would take a moment to pray to the gods of Stan Lee and Rob Liefield for guidance, but I think I’ve got their blessing with this!”

“Good!” she said intently. “Because on a night like this, I intend and expect maximum effort!”

Casting aside all restraint and reservation, Wendy just left a couple twenty-dollar bills under her half-finished coffee before grabbing the man by the arm. Then, with an energy and intent that surprised her more than him, led him out of the bar through the rear entrance. Most customers weren’t allowed back there, but since her Uncle owned the place, she gave her a pass.

The man she now called Wade eagerly followed, staying close by and slipping his gloved hand into her back pocket, giving her butt a firm squeeze. It got her to move a little faster, making her inner thighs feel hotter in the process. Between excitement for a movie and a lengthy sexual drought, her body seemed extra receptive to a little stimulation.

“You’ve got a nice ass,” Wade whispered into her ear as he followed her, “not quite as nice as Ryan Reynolds, but still close.”

“Stay close,” Wendy replied in a lurid tone. “I can use my ass as well as Deadpool uses his guns!”

“A bold claim,” he said. “I’d like to see you prove it!”

“Oh I will!”

Still completely confident, she led Wade down a narrow hall, passing one of the cooks along the way. She ignored the strange look she gave him. She didn’t care if the whole bar saw her slip out. She was going to have sex this man. Then, she was going to see Deadpool 2. By every objective measure, it looked to be a damn good night.

Upon reaching the door, they burst out into the hot mid-May evening. They emerged in a back alley where nobody who wasn’t driving a delivery truck ventured, especially this late in the evening. As soon as the door closed, Wendy turned around and jumped Wade with the same fervor as Vanessa did in the first Deadpool movie.

Wade responded just as favorably, catching her in his arms and leading her back to the wall next to the door. Along the way, she kissed his mask, playfully licking around the mouth area while grinding her body up against his. She could already feel the bulge in his pants growing. She also felt him feel up her curves, squeezing her ass and tracing up along her waist. It got her so hot that her clothes became unbearably itchy.

“Wade…help me get this off,” she said, already breathless as she unzipped her pants.

“Gladly,” he replied.

Kicking off her sandals, not minding the dirty pavement on her feet, Wendy slid her pants down her legs with Wade’s help. In the process, she revealed the Deadpool-themed panties she’d been wearing, complete with an image of Deadpool’s face right over her pussy. She swore she heard Wade giggle.

“Ooh! Those are so cute,” he said to her, his hands already on the side.

“Help me get them off and I’ll let you smell them,” Wendy told him.

“Deal!”

She laughed again, but never lost focus. She slipped out of her panties quickly, leaving her naked from the waist down. As soon as they were off, she let Wade take them, who eagerly put them up to his mask. She watched as he took in a deep whiff, not unlike the one Deadpool did when he smelled his guns.

“Ooh yeah!” he said. “I’m touching myself later.”

“Better make it much later!” said Wendy. “Remember what we discussed about ball-fondling? I’m for it.”

As if to prove her point, she dropped to her knees and grabbed the side of Wade’s pants. By now, the bulge in his pants was pretty big. Getting it off was a bit of a challenge, but after doing the Deadpool-themed belt-buckle, she managed to pull the tight-fitting red pants down to his ankles, along with his boxers.

Much to Wendy’s surprise, the man wearing the suit was very well-endowed. He had the kind of manhood that Deadpool would’ve joked about to no end. At the moment, though, it was no laughing matter. Wendy was horny, excited, and daring. True to her word from earlier, she went to work fondling Wade’s balls and playfully stroking his cock.

“I fully approve…of your position on ball-fondling,” Wade teased.

“That’s not all I’m in favor of,” Wendy said in a lurid tone.

With one hand still cradling his balls, she shot the masked man a kinky glance before taking his dick into her mouth. From there, she began giving him oral sex, channeling her inner Vanessa from the first Deadpool movie. Wendy had given her ex-boyfriend oral sex on multiple occasions, but never with such effort and fervor.

“Holy fuck-knuckles, that’s good!” Wade moaned, still holding her panties to his masked face.

Encouraged, Wendy kept up her oral teasing, using her lips and tongue to full effect. It didn’t take long before Wade was leaning back on the wall for support, running his fingers through her hair with one hand while holding onto her panties with the other.

As she sucked him, Wendy felt her own arousal escalate. At one point, she slipped a free hand between her legs and fingered her vagina to get all the right juices flowing. Before long, she was ready for a new effort.

“Mmm…ready to fuck me, Wade?” she asked seductively after giving his cock one last lick.

“With maximum effort!” Wade replied.

With instinct and reflexes as powerful as Deadpool himself, Wendy shot up from the ground. Wade, seizing the initiative, took her in his arms briefly and turned her around so that she was up against the brick wall, facing away with her heart-shaped ass pointing at him.

His pants still around his ankles and his mask still on, the man she instead on calling Wade grabbed her by the waist and guided his dick into her with a single thrust. He was so hard and she was so wet. Like Deadpool and a young Bea Arthur, their flesh embraced one another.

“Ohhh fuck!” Wendy exclaimed into the humid evening air.

“Fuck…yeah!” Wade grunted.

Wendy’s world began rocking. Wade put in the same effort into fucking her as she had when she gave him oral sex. He was so energetic and thorough, pumping his manly flesh inside her and stimulating her womanly depths with every motion. Wendy bucked her hips with every thrust, leaning harder against the brick wall. It didn’t matter that it was dirty and reckless. They were just that excited about Deadpool 2.

He fucked her nice and hard in that position, his pelvis rhythmically smacking against her putt with each thrust. At one point, he grasped her but with one hand and reached up her shirt with the other, pulling down her bra and feeling one of her breasts. That added an extra bit of sensation to their sex. Wendy loved it and craved more.

“Harder, Wade! Fuck me harder!” she cried out.

“Nice boobs…hot pussy…super penis…I fucking love it!” Wade said.

They kept going at it, moaning and grunting in the dirty nook behind her Uncle’s bar. Somewhere along the way, he pulled out and turned her around so that she could jump him again, throwing her legs around her waist so he could fuck her just like Wade fucked Venassa in the first movie. Wendy eagerly embraced the opportunity.

Her back now against the wall, her breasts hanging out of her top, Wade held her legs up as he guided his dick back into her and resumed their sex. She held onto his shoulders as their bodies rocked to the rhythm. Wendy found herself gazing intensely into the masked face before her. Whether by fluke or kink, looking at it just made her hotter and pushed her faster towards her peak.

The sex was so intense and driven. In that moment, she wasn’t just fucking some random guy in a Deadpool costume. She was actually fucking Deadpool. He was Ryan Reyonld and she was Morena Baccarin. He was Wade Wilson and she was Vanessa. That thought, along with the steady onslaught of sexual sensations, brought her to the brink of orgasm.

“Ohhh I’m coming, Wade! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“Ooh yeah! Me too,” he grunted. “Fuck, I’m going to pop my fucking load in you!”

“Do it, Wade! I want to feel your Deadpool-loving cum inside me!”

That was probably the most vulgar thing she’d ever said during sex, even while drunk. Wendy didn’t care. She was loving it too damn much. It was just too damn fun.

After a few more powerful thrusts that tested her flexibility, and other various aspects of female anatomy, Wendy came hard. She came so hard that she scratched her nails down over the seams of the mask, tearing through parts of the fabric in the process. Her toes curled, her lower back arched, and her core was set ablaze with a fiery surge of pleasure.

As that feeling engulfed her, Wade let out a labored grunt of his own, tightening his hold on her butt as he steadied his hips in anticipation of his release. She then felt his dick throb inside her pussy, his manly juices mixing with hers.

In that moment of shared, Deadpool-driven ecstasy, she kissed the masked men with passion, knowing that she’d achieved something once deemed impossible. She found a way to make Deadpool even more awesome.

“Fuck yeah,” Wendy said in her orgasmic daze. “Now that’s what I call maximum effort!”

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April 29, 2018 · 6:23 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Infinity War Edition

I hope it goes without saying to my fellow comic book fans, but this has been one of the biggest weekend in the history of the superhero genre. After over a decade of built-up and hype, “Avengers: Infinity War” has come out. It might very well be the biggest cinematic event since “Star Wars,” “Titanic,” or the first time someone saw female nipples on a movie screen.

There’s no way to overstate it. “Avengers: Infinity War” is a game-changing moment for a genre and an industry. Beyond simply giving Disney and Marvel a fresh pool of money to swim in, it promises to raise the bar for just how epic a superhero movie can be and just how impactful superheroes are on popular culture.

I still intend to craft my full review of the movie. I imagine there are plenty of people out there still in line, trying to get tickets for this monumental convergence of cinematic spectacle. I urge every one of those people to hang in there. I assure you the wait is worth it.

To make that weight slightly more bearable, I dedicate this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to all those celebrating release of “Avengers: Infinity War.” We’ve waited a long time for a moment like this. Let’s celebrate it as best we can and for me, that means a little sex appeal.

“You can accurately judge the experience and skill of a lover by how well they touch nipples.”

“Is it possible that leather is only associated with kink because it’s easier to wipe away embarrassing stains?”

“Whoever invented the UV lamp probably made a LOT of unexpected enemies.”

“Technically speaking, an orgy is a conspiracy of orgasms.”

“Laughing during sex is only slightly less awkward than throwing up during desert.”

“Sex can be given, love has be earned, and anal must be negotiated.”

“Using a vibrator during sex is the intimate equivalent of a spoiler.”

These sexy thoughts might not have the power of the Infinity Gauntlet or the menacing presence of Thanos. If nothing else, I hope they get peoples’ hearts racing for reasons other than those evoked by the movie. For superhero fans, comic fans, and fans of all things epic, “Avengers: Infinity War” is a historic achievement. The way I see it, some sexy musings can be part of the celebration.

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Tagged as comedy, crude humor, crude jokes, funny, funny jokes, humor, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, jokes, raunchy, raunchy comedy, sex, sex humor, sex jokes, sexy, sexy comedy, sexy humor, sexy jokes, Sexy Sunday Thoughts

April 28, 2018 · 8:02 am

“Avenging Desire” A Sexy Short Story

The following is a sexy short story entitled “Avenging Desire.” It’s not based on any real events, but it was inspired by the recent hype surrounding the debut of “Avengers: Infinity War.” Enjoy!

The wait was almost over. The day that fans of Marvel and superhero movies had been waiting for had finally arrived. “Avengers: Infinity War” was set to release and fans of all kinds had lined up outside the MaxCinema IMAX theater for the midnight showing.

Michelle Meyers considered herself one of those fans. In fact, she considered herself a bigger fan than 90 percent of those waiting in line, thinking they could get away with not pre-ordering tickets two weeks ahead of time. A few days ago, she would’ve laughed at them for their lack of foresight. Now, if they knew her current predicament, they’d probably be laughing at her.

“The biggest movie premier of my life,” Michelle mused as she sat on the hood of her car, “and fate finds a way to make it harder for me… and break my heart, in the process.”

Muttering a string of curses to herself, she looked away from the crowd and checked her phone. She had a little more than an hour before the midnight premier of the movie. She should’ve been more excited than any sane woman should for a movie premier. It was the cinematic event of a lifetime and Michelle thought she’d prepared for it, even going so far as to get a Black Widow costume.

Then, it happened. More specifically, her boyfriend happened. Eric Landon, the man she’d dated for two years and seen more than her share of superhero movies with, broke up with her. On top of that, she found out he’d been cheating on her with some girl he met on a comic book message board, of all places. If that weren’t bad enough, he’d been the one to pre-order their tickets.

“Fuck you, Eric,” Michelle said, still staring at her phone, which had an old picture of them in the background. “Fuck you for being worse than Thanos when it comes to loving your girlfriend. The least you could’ve done was break my heart after we saw the movie.”

She kept cursing her ex under her breath and in her mind, hoping that new girl he left her for would bust his balls like the Hulk every chance she got. Michelle had gone through bad break-ups before, but she’d never hated someone so much for ending a relationship at the worst possible time.

It wasn’t just that the tickets he bought had been in his name. She’d also found out just a few hours ago that Eric intended to use what should’ve been her ticket to take his new girlfriend to see the movie. For all she knew, they were already in line and Eric was wearing the same old Captain America T-shirt he wore on their first date.

It was tempting to just hunt him down, kick his ass in public, and take the ticket that was rightfully hers. However, Michelle had another plan, one that would help her see the movie and get back at her ex. It required a little cunning and sacrifice on her part, but for a chance to see “Avengers: Infinity War” tonight, she was willing to take that chance.

As time ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace, Michelle kept checking her phone, watching as the premier drew closer by the second. Finally, she heard the voice she’d been waiting.

“Michelle Meyers…is that you?” said Samuel Hartman, the man who held the keys to making her night a success.

“That’s me,” Michelle said, putting on her best smile and using her most seductive tone. “You’re right on time, Sam.”

“I know you couldn’t give too many specifics with your text, but how do you want to…”

Michelle held up her hand to silence him. He sounded so nervous, if not a little anxious. She couldn’t have that. She had to maintain a certain mood. It was the only way they could both get what they wanted.

“Don’t overthink this, Sam. I was vague for a reason,” she said as she got off the hood of her car. “First, let me see the tickets. I need to be sure…more so than I was with Eric.”

“Of course,” he replied, already sounding somewhat calmer.

She watched as Sam reached into his back pocket, took out his wallet, and showed her two movie tickets to the “Avengers: Infinity War” premier, which was set to begin in under an hour. Michelle then approached him, scrutinizing the tickets to make sure they were real. Having worked in a movie theater during high school, she knew how to spot fakes. Near as she could tell, they were real.

“Wow! You got great seats,” Michelle said with a smile.

“My older brother is a real movie junky,” Sam said. “He has picking the best seats down to a science.”

“And you thought to use it on the biggest movie premier of the past decade…smart.”

“Well, in my defense, I do consider myself an Avengers fan. Plus, I failed miserably to get tickets to the Black Panther movie and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.”

“Except, you already had someone to share those tickets with, didn’t you?” Michelle said.

“I did,” he admitted, “but that’s where my sister’s terrible luck is your gain. She and I were going to see this movie tonight, just like we have with every MCU movie. Then, her car breaks down on her way back from Florida and she’s not going to be in until tomorrow night.”

“My older brother is a mechanic. I’ll get him to fix that car for free if this is as worth it as I hope.”

Michelle took a step closer and, in a move that would’ve made the Black Widow proud, pulled the young man into an intimate embrace. It was a lot more intimate than she usually offered for someone she’d just met, but for Sam and the promise of seeing “Avengers: Infinity War,” she made an exception.

Sam wasn’t just a guy who happened to have a spare ticket to the movie. The only reason Michelle knew him was because he worked for the same law firm as Eric. Sam even outranked him technically, having been close to one of the partners at the firm. She’d met him at the office Christmas party and remembered that he’d recently endured a nasty break-up as well. That aligned their goals in ways beyond the movie.

Michelle had overheard Eric talking to Sam about “Avengers: Infinity War” earlier in the week, just before she found out about his lying, cheating antics. She also remembered Sam being less an asshole when debating who could lift Thor’s hammer. That made the revelation that he had a spare ticket even more enticing. It also made her method of payment much clearer.

“Um…Michelle?” said Sam, still holding the tickets and his wallet.

“Yes, Sam?” said Michelle, smiling playfully as she let her body press against his.

“I know you said you wanted to earn this ticket,” he told her.

“I still do,” she replied seductively.

“For the record, though…I still would’ve accepted cash. I would’ve even offered a discount after what Eric did to you. I mean…cheating on you and using his ticket on the girl he cheated with? That’s just wrong!”

“It’s for that exact reason I didn’t accept the discount. You see, unlike Eric, I prefer to put in the work. I like doing things the hard way. It makes the end results so much more rewarding.”

With each word she spoke, Michelle channeled every ounce her flirting skills. She hadn’t used those skills much since college and even back then, she needed a little alcohol to really maximize the effect. True to her word, she decided to push herself with Sam and for all the right reasons.

As he stood dumbfounded in her embrace, she casually grasped his arms and lowered them so that he put the tickets and his wallet away. She then guided his arms around her waist so they could share a more complete embrace. She could still sense Sam overthinking things to some extent, but if the sudden hardness in his pants were any indication, his thoughts were giving way to action. Tony Stark would’ve been proud.

“That’s also why I parked my car all the way out here,” Michelle told him, gesturing towards her car. “It’s a long walk to the theater, it’s in a corner lot, and it’s right across from that pile of broken concrete that the construction crews haven’t cleaned up yet.”

“Yeah, I figured there was a reason for that,” said Sam with an awkward grin.

“The reason is simple,” she said more intently. “It’s remote and private. On top of that, all the cops are in the theater, making sure nobody sneaks in a bottle of bourbon inside a toy hammer.”

“Would you think less of me if I tried something like that when I saw Thor: Ragnarok last year?”

“Actually…I’d find that incredibly hot.”

She must have sounded like Scarlett Johannsen because she swore she felt a bulge form in Sam’s pants instantly. Embracing him under the poor illumination of a street light, the crowded theater in the distance taking up everyone else’s attention, she and Sam might as well have been in the same underground cave as Thor was in “Avengers: Age of Ultron.”

Michelle didn’t know Sam that well, but he loved superhero movies like her and he hadn’t given away her ticket to “Avengers: Infinity War” to some undeserving bitch. That was more than enough to evoke the desires she needed to make their little transaction work.

The first part of it involved a simple kiss, which Michelle gave Sam without hesitation. She even threw in a little tongue with some extra body contact. That actually surprised him, but in the best possible way.

“Whoa,” Sam said after their lips parted, “you’re very direct.”

“I am when I have to be,” she quipped.

“Eric once mentioned how determined you could be when in the right mindset. I think he undersold that trait.”

“Please don’t mention that name from here on out. As far as I’m concerned, there are only three things that matter right now…you, me, and seeing this goddamn movie.”

Michelle kissed him again, being even more direct than before. She practically shoved her tongue into his mouth, grabbed his wrist and guiding his hands down onto her butt. That time, Sam didn’t hesitate. Instead, he kissed back. Apparently, his brain had caught up with the rest of his body. Much like the Avengers, they were ready to assemble for the ultimate mission.

Having set the tone and made her intentions clear, Michelle sensed they were ready for the next part of their transaction. That meant a different kind of assembling.

“Now then,” Michelle said, after their lips parted, “why don’t we take this to the back seat of my car and finalize our little deal?”

“Between this movie and your kissing skills…I’m just going to shut up now.”

“Works for me!”

Tapping the same giddy spirit she felt years ago when she came out of the first “Iron Man” movie, she latched onto Sam’s arm and led him to her car. As soon as she opened the rear passenger doors, she couldn’t get into the back seat with him fast enough.

Her car wasn’t the most spacious vehicle in the world, but she’d cleaned it out that afternoon, knowing she’d need every bit of space for tonight. As soon as she closed the door behind her, doing one quick check to make sure nobody was in sight, Michelle smothered Sam with healthy dose of kissing and fondling.

Before long, he was lying on the back seat with her on top of him, his hands back on her butt as their still-clothed bodies pressed together in the confined space. She more she kissed him, the more she kissed back. The more she pawed his chest, the more he squeezed his butt. It wasn’t quite the kind of teamwork the Avengers embodied, but it still seemed fitting.

All the kissing and touching helped things heat up very quickly. Already, Michelle felt the air inside her car get hotter and stickier. It made staying fully clothed unbearable for a second longer.

“Sam,” she said, already breathless as she lay on top of him, “it’s getting hotter than Surtur’s balls in here. What do you we ditch these itchy clothes?”

Sam just grinned, keeping his promise to shut up while she carried out their little transaction. That fact alone – him actually keeping a promise – already put him above her ex. That might very well make the next part even more enjoyable.

Rising up in the seat, still straddling his waist, Michelle took off her Black Widow themed T-shirt to reveal a matching black bra. Then, with the same seductive glance that made Scarlett Johannsen the best part of “Iron Man 2,” she unhooked the clasp and removed it, allowing her breasts to tumble free.

“Michelle,” Sam said, his eyes widening with delight at the sight of her breasts.

“You can call me Natasha Romanov if you want,” Michelle said playfully, doing her best Russian accent.

“I’ll…stick to Michelle,” he said jokingly.

They both laughed and kissed again. Sam didn’t need help guiding his hands to her breasts. He quickly found his way and began fondling them with both hands. He wasn’t too hard. He was actually careful. Clearly, he had fondled breasts before and was pretty good at it. That got Michelle even more eager to get out of her clothes.

First, she helped Sam keep up. As he fondled and admired her breasts, she undid his button-up shirt with an Avengers logo on the chest. Once that was off, she undid his belt buckle and pants. That proved more challenging because that bulge she felt earlier had grown quite a bit. Still determined, both to finish the job and see the movie, she managed to pull them off, boxers and all.

“That’s better,” Sam said as he eagerly kicked off his pants.

“Yes…much better,” said Michelle.

She felt like a drunken prom date, getting her first glimpse of Sam’s dick. In addition to being in better shape than Eric, Sam was more endowed as well. In the spirit of Thor, she looked to test if he was worthy of it. That also meant testing just how determined she was to see “Avengers: Infinity War.”

“I’m going to suck your dick, now,” she told him. “Then, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you so well that you’ll deem me worthy of that ticket…so worthy that Thor, himself, would be proud.”

“You just keep sweetening this deal, Michelle,” Sam said with the widest grin she’d ever seen on a man.

He must have felt like Tony Stark at that moment and Michelle intended to affirm that feeling. Still hovering over him, letting him admire and touch her breasts, she reached down and began fondling his cock. That got a favorable reaction, one that she followed to the utmost.

With his rigid member in hand, she adjusted herself so that she could get a more up-close look at his manhood. Sam did the same, rising up from the seat so she had room to work. Now comfortably resting with his back against the door, Michelle leaned in and took his length into her mouth.

“Oh yeah!” he moaned upon feeling her lips around his shaft.

Encouraged, she began sucking him off, treating it like a mission ordered by Captain America himself. Michelle usually wasn’t that eager to give a blowjob. When she’d been with Eric, he often had to sweet-talk her into it. She didn’t need that with Sam. He’d already given her plenty of incentive to both go the extra distance and even enjoy it a little.

On paper, it seemed like a chore. She would give a man sex. He’d give her a ticket to see “Avengers: Infinity War.” It was a simple, albeit lurid transaction. It might have even been illicit, according to her uncle, who happened to be a cop. Michelle refused to approach it like that, though. Like Scott Lang in “Ant Man,” she saw it as an opportunity worth pursuing.

Whether she was just that excited about the movie or just extra horny for some reason, Michelle’s efforts paid off. Eric’s blissful moans were proof enough of that, as well as the way his dick throbbed in her mouth. After sucking and slithering her way along his length, he was as hard as the Hulk’s bicep. That was her queue for the next part.

“Mmm…so strong and hard,” Michelle said playfully. “Ready to smash my pussy like the Hulk, Sam?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam said, now every bit as into it as her.

She grinned up at him, giving the tip of his dick one last lick in anticipation. She then rose up, undid her tight-fitting black pants, and pulled them down, along with her panties. Upon kicking them off with her sandals, Michelle eagerly straddled him so that his member was perfectly aligned with her wet opening.

“For the record,” she said, now gazing intently into his eyes, “I’m not just doing this for a movie ticket. I’m doing this to avenge the pain my ex caused me.”

“Avenge huh?” said Sam in a humored tone. “I can totally respect that!”

He smiled playfully and she smiled back before capturing his lips again. Then, as their tongues became entwined, Michelle thrust her hips downward and drove his cock up into her.

A surge of sharp sensations followed. The penetration was surprisingly smooth. She’d gotten herself much wetter than she’d thought. Either Sam was having an effect on her or the prospect of seeing “Avengers: Infinity War” made her just that horny. She preferred to think it was a little of both.

“Ohhh Michelle!” Sam moaned.

“Yeah…you like that?” Michelle said curtly. “You like how I avenge my ex?”

“Ohhh fuck yeah! Avenge him…just like that!”

She laughed playfully and kept kissing him, all while thoroughly gyrating her hips and building up towards a sexual rhythm. She clung to his shoulders while he held onto her waist, their naked bodies gliding and moving together in a sexual heat. Michelle even noticed the windows fogging up from all the heat and sweat. It was her kind of avenging, indeed.

As if possessed by the devious spirit of Loki, Michelle rode Sam’s cock with a passion, making it a point to fuck him better than she’d fucked Eric in the last few months of their relationship. She was hard and thorough with every movement, really working his length into her depths. Together, they made a potent heat within her car, even rocking it at times.

Soon, it didn’t feel like an obstacle between her and seeing “Avengers: Infinity War.” It was almost like a bonus, getting some hot sex before the movie. It almost didn’t seem fair, but then again, it wasn’t fair how her ex treated her so she figured they were officially even.

Within the back seat, despite the inherent confinement, she and Sam managed to go at it longer than she’d expected. He even managed to work up a good sweat, his chest glistening under the limited lighting from outside. She felt some sweat beading up on her naked skin as well as they worked their way towards a thunderous peak.

It even got a little chaotic, naked bodies shifting around while hands eagerly roamed. At one point, Sam was squeezing her butt as she rode him and she was pinching his nipples. At another, she was leaning back as she rode him so he could keep fondling her breasts. Whatever form their sex took, it had the same goals. One involved seeing the movie. The other involved something more basic.

“Michelle, I…I’m close!” Sam grunted, his every breath becoming more labored. “I’m getting real…real close!”

“Ooh me too, Sam!” Michelle moaned. “Please…come first. I want you…to come first!”

That seemed so counterintuitive, a woman wanting a man to climax first during sex. Then again, it was part of the transaction. She promised to give him a satisfying fuck in exchange for that ticket. That meant his peak had priority, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t also enjoy it.

Still leaning back, allowing Sam to keep admiring her breasts, Michelle worked her hips in a final surge of energy. Like that last desperate push the Avengers made against the Chitari in the first movie, she was determined to finish. Much like her favorite superhero team, she eventually triumphed.

“Ohhh Michelle!” Sam cried out as he finally climaxed.

It was so abrupt, but intense. Michelle felt Sam’s body tense within her grasp, his hands really squeezing her butt as the feeling took over. She finally slowed her motions, watching as Sam’s face contorted to the pleasure that came along with his release. She made sure he enjoyed it, remaining on top of him while his dick throbbed inside her.

Since she was so close to her own climax, though, she kept the rhythm going for a bit longer. From that final push, along with a little extra self-stimulation, she managed to achieve orgasm as well. She hadn’t expected it, as part of her deal with Sam. The fact she could just made the avenging that much more satisfying.

“Mmm…Sam!” Michelle moaned. “Avenge…with me!”

That sounded so cheesy out loud, but in a state of orgasmic bliss, she was beyond caring. With Sam still reeling from his own peak, Michelle grabbed onto his shoulders, closed her eyes, and threw her head back as she let out a cry that felt like it came straight from Asgard.

She was much louder and more energetic than she’d intended. However, she’d always enjoyed being vocal during sex. Adding that on top of her excitement on seeing “Avengers: Infinity War” just made her deal with Sam that much sweeter.

“I think…we’re done avenging,” said Sam breathlessly.

“That’s for sure!” said Michelle, still dazed by her orgasm.

Their naked bodies remained entwined as she soaked in the feeling, taking in every last ripple of pleasure that coursed up through her body. She even threw in a sultry kiss and an extra embrace. It helped let Sam know that what they had just done was more than just a transaction for movie tickets.

Once the feeling passed, their bodies parted and Michelle caught her breath. Still sweaty and sticky, she and Sam were sure to look pretty disheveled in the theater. She didn’t care, though. She was too excited about the movie, among other things.

“Come on,” she told him. “Let’s get dressed and get in line. We’ve got a movie to see!”

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Sam as he gathered his clothes.

As soon as he found his pants, he took his wallet out again and handed her the ticket. Michelle, still fully nude, eagerly took it. Having done her part and completed the deal, it was hers now. Just holding it in her hand helped it feel real.

“I’m also glad you didn’t take the discount price I offered,” Sam told her.

“Of course you didn’t,” Michelle teased as she put the ticket in her purse. “This way, you got to have sex.”

“That, and I helped avenge something that needed avenging,” he said, “On the night of an Avengers movie premier, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

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Tagged as adult novels, Avengers, Avengers Infinity War, erotic stories, erotica, erotica fiction, erotica romance, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, Literotica, love, romance, romance novels, romance stories, sex, sexy, sexy short stories, short stories, short story

April 24, 2018 · 5:23 am

“The Gardener” A Sexy Sort Story

The following is a sexy short story entitled “The Gardener.” Now that it’s spring and people are starting to do yard work again, I felt inspired to put a sexy spin on it. Personally, I’m not big on gardening, but I can easily see it having a certain kind of sex appeal. That’s what this story celebrates. Enjoy!

“Don’t forget to clean the upstairs bathroom!” yelled an impatient voice from downstairs. “Just because you’re home for the week doesn’t mean I’m cleaning your soap scum!”

“Yes, mother,” replied an annoyed Heather Ryan.

“And be sure to vacuum your bedroom while you’re at it!” she added. “You father and I worked hard to keep your old room organized. Don’t make us do it again!”

Heather felt like banging her head on the nearest brick wall. It was her first day home from college – the first day of spring break, no less – and already she longed for another mid-term. It was hard enough with most of her friends were taking trips to the beach or camping upstate. Being stuck at home made it feel less like a vacation and more like a chore.

“Chores,” Heather groaned, “they never end because things always get dirty.”

Slumping down in her chair at the desk next to her bed, she was already dreading the rest of her week. She’d arrived home from college late last night, carrying two large suitcases of dirty clothes, one of which got soaked because it had been raining. Her parents were glad to see her for about five minutes before they started giving her crap for tracking mud into the foyer.

She should’ve been used to it, by now. Since she was a kid, her parents had been neat freaks. She and her two younger siblings, Kevin and Joan, learned from an early age that cleanliness was a priority in their house. That didn’t just mean cleaning up after themselves. That meant doing the necessary chores and doing them on time. Failure to do so would result in more chores of increasing drudgery.

It never seemed to end. She almost envied her two younger siblings, who were still in high school and got to spend a chunk of their day out of the house and away from all the chores. With her dad working late at his law firm, her mother expected her to share the workload. It promised to turn Spring Break into an extended chore.

As Heather dreaded the work her mother had in store, her gaze drifted towards the window overlooking the back yard of her parents’ two-story home. After the rain last night, the sun had come out and the warm spring air had rolled in. She wished she could appreciate it, but all it did was remind her that her friends were probably laying on the beach, working on a tan.

“I miss winter already,” Heather said to herself. “At that way, my mom wouldn’t try to stick me with yard work. I’m almost afraid to go outside.”

She sighed to herself and got up to close the blinds, if only to help her fight the temptation. Then, just over the fence and into her neighbor’s yard, something caught her eye that tempted her in a very different way.

“Oh my sweet Lord,” she gasped. “I’m officially unafraid.”

Suddenly, Heather was grateful for the warm spring weather. Out in the backyard of her neighbors, she saw a very handsome, very shirtless young man working in a garden. He was tall, tanned, and well-muscled. He definitely worked outside often and, if the way he handled that shovel were any indication, he was very comfortable working on a hot spring day. However, his muscles and his stature were not his most attractive features.

The man was so unkempt and disheveled. He had messy, mid-length hair that no barber had touched in at least a year. He had a grizzled, unshaven face that hadn’t felt a razor blade in at least a month. Heather swore she could smell the sweat and the dirt on his flesh through her window. It was enough to trigger a little spring-time heat-wave between her legs.

“It’s half-past-ten and he’s already hard at work,” Heather mused, “hard, dirty work.”

She said that in the tone of a woman who hadn’t had sex since she broke up with her boyfriend eight months ago. In that time, she’d been on a handful of dates that ended uneventfully or in disaster. It made for a lot of lonely nights, especially during the winter and whenever her roommate snuck over to her boyfriend’s dorm.

However, the memory of those nights quickly faded as she watched the man work. He was shoveling a large pile of mulch into a sizable garden in the corner of the back yard. There were already several large plants in place so he must have already done the dirtiest work, getting on his knees and really sifting through the mud. Just picturing him doing that made her panties feel moist.

It was at that moment when Heather remembered that the neighbors she had in the fall had moved out shortly before she left for college. She also recalled that the house next door had been for sale when she came home for the holidays. That meant the handsome young man had come with her new neighbors and she hadn’t been around to introduce herself.

Suddenly, she had an excuse to go outside and risk her mother sticking her with more chores. The more she watched the handsome man work, the more willing she felt to take that chance.

“A handsome, hard-working new neighbor,” Heather said, not even trying to hide the sexual undertones in her voice. “I might as well go introduce myself.”

With a mischievous grin, she got up from her desk, put on a pair of sandals, and rushed downstairs, avoiding her mother, who was busy in the basement. She didn’t bother changing out of the denim shorts and tank top she’d worn yesterday. For once, she wasn’t going to worry about being clean and presentable, like her parents always told her. For a stranger, who happened to be a handsome man, Heather sought to present herself in a different way.

As soon as she stepped outside, the hot, muggy spring air hit her on all sides. Heather could already hear her parents yelling at her to take off her sandals, keep the doors closed, and shower before dinner. She shut all that out, focusing only on the handsome, disheveled man next door.

The heat and humidity must have already gotten to her because she didn’t bother just peaking over the fence, admiring the handsome man from afar. She was a young, single college woman who had to endure a week at home with her uptight parents. She was not going to waste an opportunity like this.

“Someone’s getting an early start this morning,” Heather greeted as she casually walked along the short wooden fence. “Is this how you start every Monday morning, stranger?”

The man, apparently caught off guard by her presence, almost dropped the shovel as he turned around. Up close, she could already see dirt and mud stains on his jeans. That only made him hotter in your eyes.

“Uh…good morning to you too, ma’am,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

“You’re right. We haven’t and that’s just rude of me,” Heather said playfully. “I’m Heather, the rowdy college girl that my parents probably didn’t mention when they introduced themselves.”

“You’re part of the Ryan family?” he said, sounding intrigued. “Funny, they did mention having an older daughter in college. I don’t remember them saying much about her…or about how rowdy she was.”

“Trust me, that part was implied.”

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

The handsome man smiled at her and she smiled back. He seemed intrigued. That was a promising sign. Most girls her age didn’t admit to being rowdy. That usually evoked too many dirty thoughts in young, straight men. Heather dared to be unusual. It helped that she actually wanted him to think those thoughts.

Setting aside the shovel, he walked up to her and leaned on the fence. As he got closer, Heather sweat on his body made him glow under the morning sun. His messy hair, his messy beard, and even the hair on his chest radiated a thick, sweaty musk. Her parents would’ve been aghast at such a smell. Heather found it utterly intoxicating.

“The name’s Mark,” he said to her, “the youngest, but most experience member of the Truman family clan.”

“Experienced, huh?” Heather said, leaning over the fence with a flirtatious glance. “That how you describe your gardening skill?”

“I like to think I’ve got more skills than that, but I guess this is counts as one of them.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty, but this one really shows. The last set of neighbors let most of their backyard turn into a mud pit.”

“Yeah, my folks and I noticed that too. We knew this place needed a lot of work when we moved in. Lucky for us, we ain’t afraid to work. My dad’s a mechanic and my mom is a vet. We know the value of getting our hands dirty.”

“Dirty indeed,” said Heather.

She might have been too flirtatious with that remark. Mark almost seemed amused, but didn’t mind when she got a little closer, giving her another whiff of the distinct odor that could only come from a hard-working man. It was dirty, but so strong. If she hadn’t been leaning on the fence, she doubted her legs would’ve supported her.

“Well, it’s good to finally meet you,” said Mark before the silence got too awkward. “You home for the week or something?”

“Yep!” Heather affirmed. “I’m on Spring Break. Most of my friends are off on vacation or at the beach. I’m stuck at home the entire time.”

“Funny, you don’t sound too upset about that.”

“Believe me, I was…until a few minutes ago when I saw you.”

“You don’t say?” he said with even more intrigue. “Well, I’m glad I could make your break a little better. I’m also glad I finally met someone my own age in this neighborhood. Seems like the only people in this neighborhood are young kids or grumpy adults.”

“Guess we’re somewhat even,” said Heather. “You’ll find plenty of people our age around here, but in a neighborhood like this, you won’t find many who will get their hands dirty…not if they have the money to pay other people to do it.”

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I work in my dad’s garage and clean up after my mom’s dogs. I’m dirty 90 percent of the time. Think that’s gonna cause problems?”

“With some people, it may. With others…well, they might prefer you stay as dirty as you damn well please.”

Hoping her flirtatious undertone had gotten her point across, Heather decided to take another risk. She reached over and lightly trailed her fingers up his arms, feeling the sweat and grime from all the dirt along the way. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the smile on his face widened. It was as though no one had ever appreciated his willingness to get dirty.

Now standing so close, able to feel the heat from his body over that of the morning son, she leaned in a little closer. Mark leaned in as well, his gaze on her become more focused. All the effort and toil must have really got his blood flowing because she could feel him undressing her with his eyes. In the muggy spring heat, she didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Ms. Ryan,” said Mark, again avoiding too awkward a silence.

“Heather,” she said. “We’re not a dinner party or a ball. You can call me Heather.”

“Okay, Heather,” he said. “I’m still new in town and I left a lot of stuff behind up state.”

“By chance, was one of those things a girlfriend?”

“As a matter of fact…yeah, that was a big thing,” he said. “In fact, it was bigger than I thought it would be…coming to a new town, starting over, and not having anyone besides my folks to help me adjust. I guess you could say busting my butt in a garage, a garden, or anywhere else I can get my hands dirty is how I’ve been coping.”

“That’s sad, but noble as hell,” Heather said. “There are way worse ways a handsome young guy like you could handle himself in a new town.”

“I like to think I’ve done things the right way so far.”

With every word he said, Mark Truman just kept getting sexier and sexier. Not only did he get his hands dirty, but he was a genuinely good guy who had to deal with the decisions his parents made for him. A man like that didn’t deserve to be alone when adjusting to a new neighborhood.

At the same time, she needed a man like that…one who was good, but still embodied had traits completely unlike her parents or the rest of the neighborhood. He was unlike any of the other men she’d dated or been around. He might not recoil at the idea of sticking his hands in the mud. That made Heather certain of her desires. She was going to hook up with this man.

“Well, Mr. Truman – or Mark, if that’s what you want me to call you,” she said in an outright seductive tone, “if you’re looking for another way to cope, I think I could help.”

“That’s mighty generous of you,” Mark said, his grin widening even more.

“It might be a little more wrong than right, depending on your point of view,” she added, “but if you’re willing to get just a little dirtier with a girl who may or may not have a thing for that…”

She let her words trail off so that Mark could fill in the blanks. Looking to guide him, she playfully trailed her finger up his arms, over the sinews of his biceps, and onto his exposed chest, not minding the sweat or dirt for a second. She must have come off as overly eager, a horny young woman who just needed a good humping. That could either completely dissuade him or seal the deal.

He seemed inclined towards the latter, his gaze narrowing on her as she lightly pawed his chest. From there, it didn’t take long for him to fill in the blanks. Leaning in closer, so much so that she could feel his hot breath on her face, he reached up and caressed her face with his dirty hands. His touch set her inner thighs ablaze, making her even more eager to get dirty with him.

“I never shy away from dirty work,” Mark said to her, “especially when it involves a pretty girl.”

“Then, I’ll skip the part where I ask how comfortable you are around girls like me,” said Heather, “and I’ll just ask where the nearest private space is.”

“Well…depending on how dirty you’re willing to get, the shed is closer than the garage.”

“Oh trust me, I’m that willing!”

To assure him there were no doubts in her mind, Heather kissed him hard on the lips. She didn’t care that his face was unshaven or that his hair was greasy. If anything, that turned her on even more, prompting her to put a little tongue into it. That sent a clear message. She wanted him. She wanted to be taken by a dirty, sweaty man in a dirty, confined shed.

Mark got that message loud and clear. He eagerly kissed back, wrapping his powerful arms around her and pulling her closer to his body. She already could feel he wanted her too, the hard work making him deserving of a fitting reward. Heather wanted to be that reward…the kind that made the dirt, sweat, and toil feel worth it.

“Mark…take me,” she gasped in between the kisses.

Before he could even respond, Heather scaled the waist-high fence, not leaving his arms for a second in the process. Once over, he caught her and pulled her into a deeper embrace. Almost immediately, Heather felt his sweat stain her shirt. That didn’t bother her in the slightest, though. That just gave her all the more incentive to get them off.

“The shed…that way,” Mark said.

“Lead the way!” Heather eagerly replied.

Already drunk on his touch and his sweaty musk, she pounced on him, jumping up into his grasp and throwing her legs around her waist. She even lost her sandals in the process, but she didn’t care. She was in Mark’s arms, eager to follow his desires as well as her own.

With the same strength he’d used to tend his garden, Mark held her up by her butt and carried her over to the shed that was adjacent to the garden. They kissed every step of the way, their tongues aggressively entwined with lust. Upon entering, he closed the door behind them, leaving them in a dirty, confined, poorly lit space. From her point of view, it was the hottest setting they could’ve been in.

“Off! Get it off!” Heather said desperately, already trying to remove her shirt.

Mark set her on a work bench in the corner of the shed, covered in dust and littered with rusty tools. The ambience just kept getting hotter by the second.

Once in place, their lips briefly parted so she could remove her shirt up over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra so she made sure Mark got a good look at her exposed breasts. He clearly liked what he saw and hungrily grasped them with both hands.

“Nice tits,” he said in a lecherous tone.

“Go on. Touch them with your dirty hands,” Heather said, emphasizing the dirty part.

As Mark fondled her breasts, she skillfully undid her denim shorts and took them off, panties and all. Now fully nude, she felt the heat, grime, and humidity on her exposed flesh. By her parents’ rigid standards, she was filthy. Instead of feeling wrong, though, it felt so right…right and sexy.

Mark, showing more excitement in the presence of a naked woman, smothered her with his lustful touch. As he felt over her breasts, hips, and butt, he kissed her again, the raw hunger in his every touch hinting at a growing desire. Heather sought to match that hunger every step of the way, throwing in some intimate touching of her own, which eventually led her to the growing bulge in his pants.

“Pants…off,” she managed to get out in between wrestling tongues.

He couldn’t comply fast enough, undoing his belt buckle and kicking off his boots. Heather did the rest, undoing his jeans and pushing them down, along with his underwear to reveal a semi-erect cock. Like the rest of his body, it looked so strong and rugged, emanating an intensely masculine aura. Heather wanted nothing more than to have it inside her.

She made that desire clear, reaching out and grasping it with both hands as they continued kissing. Mark let out a deep moan, her touch inspiring even more lust. Before long, his dick was fully erect, the air around them ablaze with shared desire. It was already a hot, muggy spring day. Together, they were going to make it hotter.

“Heather…you ready?” he said, already breathless as their lips party.

“Ready to get hot, sweaty, and dirty as hell!” Heather told him.

Grinning at her choice of words, Mark shifted those filthy hands of his down to her hips, pulling her forward so that she sat on the edge of the work bench. As he positioned himself closer, she hooked her legs around his waist and grabbed onto his shoulders. Then, once his manly flesh was aligned with her hot opening, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ohhh yes!” Heather cried out. “Give it to me, Mark. Give me that dirty cock!”

Mark responded with a determined grunt, not unlike the one she’d heard earlier while he was shoveling mulch. With the same grit that he’d shown with his garden, he fucked her. He did it with raw strength and power, rocking her body with every movement. It forced her to cling harder to his shoulders, gasping every time she his member probed her deepest depths.

With each labored motion, a sharp surge of sensations followed. The heat, the sweat, and the desire morphed into pleasure…raw, unfiltered pleasure. It unleashed in Heather a kind of pent up energy that she didn’t know she had.

“Yes! Oh yes!” she exclaimed. “Mark…so strong…so dirty. Ooh I love it!”

“Ohhh Heather!” Mark moaned.

Their sex took on a distinctly messy rhythm, which felt all too appropriate. They were doing it on a dirty table within a dirty shed on a hot, sticky day in spring. Everything about it defied the conventions of cleanliness that had been instilled in Heather since birth. Somehow, that made for the hottest sex she’d ever had.

Through the intense exertion, she worked up a sweat of her own. Before long, her naked skin glistened with the same dirty glow as Mark. Her sweat soon mixed with his, allowing their bodies to glide and slither together more effortlessly. His hands more wildly roamed all over her body, feeling her up from her thighs to her breasts to her face. She did the same, raking her nails over his back and trailing her fingers over the manly sinews of his upper body.

She fueled his intense desire just as much as he fueled hers. There was nothing careful or reserved about it. She was just as willing to put in the work in pursuit of a greater reward. During that pursuit, their bodies shifted chaotically in the heat of their vigorous sex. At one point, she hitched both legs up over his shoulders so he could fuck her at a different angle. At another, he held her up in his arms and bounced her along his cock.

Eventually, Heather found herself bent over the work bench, her breasts and face pressed up against the dusty wood as Mark fucked her from behind. She was almost at her peak, holding onto the sides of the table for dear life. Mark was close too. She could tell by how each movement got more steady and targeted. If they were going to share in the work, then they might as well share in its fruits.

“Mark…I’m close. I’m so…so close!” Heather moaned.

“Me too, Heather! Just a little…bit longer!” he said in between grunts.

The next few moments were a test of endurance, albeit in the best possible way. Heather closed her eyes, focusing on the heat, scent, and grime around her. It was all associated with one man…the strong, hard-working man having sex with her. Together, they got dirty in the most rewarding way possible.

Finally, after a few more labored thrusts, Mark sent her over the edge. In an instant, the heat around her turned into a seas of ecstasy in which she became fully immersed. Throwing her head back, Heather let out a cry that reverberated throughout the confined shed. Intense, throbbing sensations of pleasure surged through her like an erupting volcano. It effectively completed the hard, dirty work.

Her orgasmic bliss soon became Mark’s. As her pussy throbbed around his rigid cock, he crossed that threshold as well, letting out a deep moan that complemented her blissful cries perfectly. She could actually feel his manhood tensing within her as it released its seminal load inside her. It was so raw and dirty, which made her love it even more.

“Heather…so hot,” Mark said breathlessly.

“Mark…so dirty,” she replied.

Their ability to form words failed them. That didn’t stop her from rising up from the dirty table and turning her head so he could kiss her again. That told him everything she wanted to say and then some.

For a moment, they just lingered in one another’s naked, sweaty embrace. Eventually, his body parted from hers, but they remained in each other’s arms, still immersed in the muggy ambience of their grasp.

“I’m starting to think I’ll like it here in this neighborhood,” Mark said as he affectionately caressed the side of her back.

“And I’m starting to think my Spring Break won’t suck anymore,” Heather said.

They each laughed and shared another playful kiss, not caring for a second as their sweat, grime, and various bodily fluids continued to mix. There was something liberating about it and it wasn’t just a byproduct of the afterglow either.

Heather had lived much of her life in a world where so many things had to be clean. Hard, gritty work was somehow unappealing and to be avoided at all costs. By getting dirty with Mark – literally and figuratively, no less – she discovered that there was value to that work. It didn’t just turn her on. It inspired real passion…a kind that only a uniquely special men could appreciate.

Whatever else Spring Break had in store for her, she was already convinced that Mark was just that special.

“You know, at some point we’re still going to have to get cleaned up,” Mark reminded her.

“I know,” said Heather curtly while running her hand through his greasy hair. “That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy being dirty a little longer.”

“Well, I guess it helps when you’ve got someone to share it with.”

“Definitely!” she said with a beaming grin. “After all, how can you appreciate being clean if you don’t let yourself get a little dirty once in a while?”

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Tagged as chick lit, erotic, erotic fiction, erotic literature, erotic stories, erotica, erotica fiction, erotica literature, erotica romance, erotica stories, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, Literotica, sexy short stories, Sexy Short Story, sexy stories, sexy story, short stories, short story

April 22, 2018 · 5:48 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Tax Day Recovery Edition

Let’s face it. Nobody likes paying taxes. It ranks near the top of any list for things that no one, not even an aspiring erotica/romance writer, can make sexy. This past week, most of us had to experience the less-than-pleasant feeling of filling out various forms and compiling various documents about our financial situation for the sole benefit of our IRS masters.

I would call that an act of financial BDSM, but that would be an insult to those who enjoy BDSM. There aren’t nearly as many people who enjoy paying taxes other than the accountants of rich people who get to charge excessive fees for dealing with all the paperwork. It’s one of those unpleasant, intimate transactions that nobody really enjoys.

That said, it’s over now for the most part. Tax season has come and gone. I’m all paid up. That means I’ve been screwed as much as I need to be screwed, at least financially, for the rest of the year. I hope everyone reading this got through it with minimal discomfort. Barring any audits, we’re good until next spring.

For that very reason, I’m dedicating this week’s edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts to the conclusion of tax season. I understand that it’s not a sexy topic. I understand there are those still getting screwed as I write this. Regardless of your financial situation, it’s the price we all pay for a civilized society. It’s my hope that these sexy musings will help ease the recovery process.

“The music we make love to might not always set the mood, but it can definitely establish a rhythm.”

“The bulge of a man’s wallet will always be more attractive than a bulge in his pants.”

“Giving a massage after sex is akin to a sale’s tax, but receiving one is akin to a tax refund.”

“In a sense, a man giving his lover oral sex is paving the way for his future children.”

“A night of playful kink is the relationship equivalent of a dozen date nights.”

“Being frugal is only sexy when you’re still willing to spend extra on premium lube.”

“Good oral sex skills go a long way towards compensating for poor cooking skills.”

Tax season may be over, but the pain for some will surely linger for a bit longer. If you’re unlucky enough to get audited, then the experience is about to get even less sexy. For everyone else, take comfort in the knowledge that we need only get screwed like this once a year. That leaves a full calender’s worth of days to screw in the ways we enjoy.

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March 23, 2018 · 5:31 am

“Before The Prom” A Sexy Short Story

The following a short story called “Before The Prom.” With prom season just around the corner and all the raging hormones that come with it, I felt inspired to craft a steamy little story to get everyone in the spirit, so to speak. Enjoy!

“How about another smile the happy couple?” said Rod Richter’s enthusiastic mother.

“Promise this is the last one?” said Rod. “My jaw muscles can only take so much.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Sherry Hopkins, his girlfriend and prom date. “You smile more when Coach Whitman cancels track practice.”

“You’re not helping, Sherry,” he said while still smiling for the camera.

It was a momentous, but tedious moment, at least for parents. Rod was about to go to his senior prom. Finals were over. College applications had been submitted and acceptance letters had been received. The hardest, most stressful parts of high school were almost over. He and everyone else at Grovesberg High School had earned one night of fun and partying.

Despite the annoyance he felt from his parents’ wanting a picture from every possible angle, he still smiled and held his girlfriend close. He and Sherry had already been through this with her parents when he picked her up. He barely had any time to admire the beautiful black dress she’d bought or the fresh highlights she’d put in her hair. Both their parents still tried to make it about them.

“Don’t worry. The wait will be worth it,” she’d told him.

“I sure hope so,” Rod replied.

“I know so. I promise!”

She sounded so certain. Then again, Sherry had always been the confident, self-assured type. That was part of what attracted him to her. She was actually the friend of a friend of his older sister, Dina. They’d crossed path a few times during their junior year. Then, right around the holidays during a big get-together with his sister’s friends, they found each other. Everything after that had been textbook teenage puppy love.

However, Rod hoped to push their relationship to the next level. Tonight was their senior prom, the last hurrah before they finalized their college plans. What happened tonight might very well decide whether they go their separate ways or see if they could be something more.

Looking at Sherry as the flash from his mother’s phone went off, he still wasn’t sure whether how deep his feelings went for her. When she looked at him with those intense, yet passionate eyes, it made him shudder in the best possible way. He smiled back at her, holding her a little closer and feeling that tone, fit body that had made her a track star last spring. He hoped to know that body more intimately before the night was over.

First, though, he had to escape his parents’ scrutiny. With the sun having just set, his mother finally relented.

“That’s the last one,” his mother said.

“You sure this time?” Rod asked half-jokingly.

“Positive!” she affirmed. “It’s time. You’re free to go, my youngest son.”

“You’re not going to get dramatic on me, are you? We already got that with Sherry’s mom.”

“And I’m not even the youngest,” Sherry added.

“I’m trying not to, but I can’t help it. My baby’s off to his senior prom and I can’t keep calling him a baby much longer.”

Rod rolled his eyes, but hugged his mother anyway, which earned him a look of approval from Sherry. She’d gone through the same thing with her mother, struggling to process the idea that her teenage kid wasn’t a kid anymore. She got over it enough to let them leave. Now, it was her mother’s turn.

After an extended hug, Rod rejoined Sherry and made their way to his car, which he had washed, gassed up, and ready for an eventful night. His dad had even put a prom poster on the back just under the rear window. He didn’t get as emotional as his mother, but the two beers he’d drank hinted that he felt it too.

“Have a great time, you two,” his father said.

“We will, Mr. Richter!” Sherry said as she excitedly clang to his arm.

“And son…be careful,” his father added.

“I will, dad,” Rod said as he waved goodbye.

“I mean it, Roddy. Be careful,” he said, this time with a suggestive subtext.

Rod bit his lip and faked a smile. He even noticed a snicker from Sherry. She’d picked up on it too. He wished she hadn’t, but it was hard to ignore, even from his parents.

While his mother seemed perfectly content ignoring the implications, his father had already given him the proverbial talk. He said he’d been young once too. He knew what happened between couples at the prom. Rod didn’t ask for details, but he got them anyway and had been trying to forget them ever since.

He opted not to dwell on them and focus on Sherry, who didn’t seem to hold his father’s comments against him. She kept on smiling, even as he opened the passenger door to his car and let her in like a true gentleman. He waved goodbye to his parents one last time, ignoring eye contact with his dad, before finally driving off towards the Maple Resort Hotel where the prom was being held.

“That…was more intense than I thought,” said Rod, shortly after they pulled away.

“Were you expecting them to not care that their handsome son is going to prom with a beautiful girl in a $400 dress?”

“That would’ve been easier,” he joked.

“But it would’ve undercut the importance of this night,” she said, “and I know as well as you just how important it is.”

There was a subtext in her tone as well, but it wasn’t nearly as lurid as his father’s had been. Sherry might have been a fun-loving, energetic girl, but she could be serious when necessary. In fact, it was when she was serious that he saw her most attractive traits.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks,” Sherry said to him as he drove. “We laid out everything we wanted to go right and agreed on the things we didn’t want to screw up. We went in on a hotel suite, got intel on the chaperones, and even made plans in case Mike and Joel tried to pull another one of their pranks.”

“I’m pretty sure I threatened them and their ancestors to restrain themselves, this time,” said Rod. “I sure as hell hope they got the message.”

“Beyond just having a good time, we also made more intimate plans. Since your father made it so awkward for us and my dad could barely make eye-contact, I won’t say those plans out loud.”

Rod gripped the wheel tighter as memories of that conversation came rushing back. He hadn’t made it a secret, how much he wanted her. She sent some pretty clear signals as well. In fact, the night they first got together, she let him feel her up when she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Sherry was not at all shy about sharing herself with others.

However, as fun as that moment had been, it was as far as they went and for good reason. Sherry wasn’t a virgin. He’d known that before they started dating. He also knew that her first time hadn’t been very memorable. She said it wasn’t painful or anything, but for all the expectations she’d had with her first boyfriend, it really fell short.

“I thought I did everything I had to do to make my first time great. Turns out, I overdid it,” she’d told him.

Rod understood, more so than he wish he did. His first time hadn’t been that memorable, either. His last girlfriend, Connie Bridges, was a sweet girl with a great personality, but she was a real micromanager when it came to certain aspects of her life. That included sex.

He could laugh to himself about it now, but it was not very funny or sexy at the time. She tried to dictate every position and movement, as though she somehow knew what good sex was. Being so nervous and so horny, it was more nerve-racking than enjoyable. He barely remembered getting off, let alone feeling that intimate. Connie still acted as though they’d done everything right, which contributed to their eventual breakup.

Rod didn’t want that with Sherry. Looking over at her as the car stopped at a traffic signal, he saw a young woman who cared about his desires too. She didn’t mind kissing, hugging, and sharing dirty texts in the middle of the night. She let him express certain feelings that he couldn’t express with anyone else. She’d been so good to him, which was a big reason why he didn’t complain when she said she wanted to hold off on getting sexual.

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best,” he’d said. “Better to wait for the right time than mess up what we have.”

Rod said those words to her barely a week after they’d gotten together. At the time, he didn’t know if Sherry would just be a quick fling or something serious. Now, she was his senior prom date. He didn’t know how much more serious they could get.

“I still want to see those plans through,” Rod said to her as he waited for the light to turn green, “including the intimate ones.”

“Me too,” said Sherry, leaning over and clinging to his arm. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about it…among other things.”

“Same here,” he admitted, “and believe me, thinking only goes so far.”

“You’ve got an internet connection and a Playboy poster in your bedroom, Rod. I never assumed you’d live the life of a monk while we made these plans.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a bemused grin, “but those plans still have merit. You didn’t hide how disappointing your first time was. I didn’t hide the dirty details of mine either.”

“To be fair, yours weren’t that dirty,” she teased. “Connie just found a way to make a sexy moment dull, which is a hell of an accomplishment.”

“And one I don’t care to repeat,” Rod went on. “I care about you, Sherry. I really do. I’ve also seen my friends – and even some of yours, mind you – screw their personal lives with sex.”

“You don’t have to name names. I know who you’re talking about.”

“They don’t plan it out. They don’t talk about it. They just act and think that’s all there is to it. Then, they’re still surprised when they’re disappointed.”

“And you don’t want that for us,” she said in a more serious tone.

“Hell no!” he said without hesitation. “If we’re gonna do it, let’s at least make it a strength and not a complication. That’s why we made these all these plans in the first place…to see if sex can show us just how good we can be together, beyond the prom.”

There was a brief silence. For a moment, Rod thought he’d said too much. Much to his relief, though, Sherry just smiled back and gave him an affectionate kiss.

“Oh Rod…that might be the sweetest thing a horny guy has ever said to me,” said Sherry.

“Uh…you’re welcome,” he said, now blushing profusely.

Rod got a little more serious than he’d intended. He wasn’t usually the type to get that personal, even with his girlfriend. Since it was prom night, he made an exception and Sherry seemed to appreciate. The way she clung to his arm made his heart race with anticipation on what the night held.

He probably would’ve kept going with his personal ramblings, but thankfully, the light turned green and they drove on. Sherry remained close. He still felt her penetrating gaze on him, which made the air around him feel several degrees hotter. For an anxious teenage guy in a rented tuxedo, that was not a pleasant feeling, but he endured. Sherry was worth it.

After driving down the North Valley Parkway for a couple miles, he turned onto one of the back roads that he often used to cut through to the downtown area. It was heavily wooded and near a golf course that had been closed for renovations for the past several months. Other than parking lots and gated areas, it was probably the quietest place in the county.

There wasn’t much traffic and cutting through meant getting to the hotel earlier and ahead of their friends. If they were going to get to those intimate plans, then they might as well get a head start. The more Rod thought about it, the more he wanted to see them through. Being so close to Sherry, that beautiful black dress hugging her body, really tested his hormones and his patience.

“Hey Rod,” said Sherry, “can I ask you one thing before we get too deep into plans and prom spirits?”

“Of course,” Rod said without hesitation, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Say we make all these plans and follow them to the letter,” she said. “We do everything we set out to do, right down to the sexy stuff. If, after all that, it ends up being this amazing, passionate, and deeply satisfying experience…would that make us the kind of couple who don’t forget each other as soon as we graduate?”

“If it’s that good?” he said with a laugh. “Hell, that wouldn’t just make us that couple. That would make this the greatest prom of all time.”

He made it sound so logical and it was. If their plans worked out and they had the kind of sex they both wanted, then Rod could easily see himself being with Sherry beyond this night, high school, and maybe even beyond that. The way he saw it, if two horny teenagers could find a way to enjoy sex after the disappointing first times they had, then that was a sign that they had something special.

Logic or not, Rod soon sensed a shift in Sherry’s demeanor. Her penetrating gaze narrowed on him. A strange smile formed on her face. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but tried to keep his eyes on the road.

Then, just as they neared a particularly sharp turn, Sherry reached over, grabbed his thigh, and leaned in.

“Rod, there’s an empty parking lot just up ahead. Pull into it,” she said to him in the deepest, sexiest voice he’d ever heard outside a computer screen.

“Uh…what?” said Rod, almost losing control of the steering wheel.

“You heard what I said. Pull over. Find some place quiet and private. I want to skip a few parts of our plan.”

His heart rate spiked. His entire body broke out into a sudden sweat, making his tux feeling unbearably itchy. For a second, he thought he was fantasizing…that he’d just imagined Sherry telling the more impulsive parts of his brain just what he wanted to hear. When he felt her hand grip his thigh, causing his pants to tighten almost immediately, he was convinced. This was real.

“Sherry…” Rod began, his brain and his hormones now locked in conflict.

“I know what I said, Rod,” she said, stopping him before he could overthink. “I want to do it. I want you to pull over and have sex with me in this car…on prom night…before we even get to the prom.”

Rod opened his mouth to respond. Then, Sherry trailed her hand up his thigh and over the front of his pants where a bulge was already forming. As soon as he felt her touch, that sealed the choice for him.

“Fuck it,” he said, “if you’re sure you want this…”

“I’m sure,” Sherry said before he could finish.

“Then, I want it too. God, I want it even more than I thought.”

Before he could overthink the situation, he pumped the breaks on his car and pulled into the dirt road that led to the parking lot near the top of a hill, causing the tires to skid and the transmission to screech. It was a bumpy ride, but that did little to dissuade him or Sherry. If anything, it excited him.

The parking lot was small and heavily screened by trees. It was where the golf carts were usually stored when the course was in operation. Since the renovations began, it had been a just a storage area lined with metal trailers and large dumpsters. In terms of privacy and isolation, it was perfect.

“Over there!” Sherry said, pointing out a secluded space near a storage trailer.

“I see it,” said Rod, gripping the steering wheel firmly.

He couldn’t park his car fast enough, slamming on the breaks and stopping it just under an oversized oak tree. He didn’t care that it was crooked. He just needed to get his girlfriend in the back seat and out of these itchy prom clothes.

Before he even turned the engine off, Sherry had undone her seatbelt and began crawling into the back seat. In the process, Rod got a peak of her underwear. He swore he could smell the arousal between her thighs through the muggy spring air. It was more than enough to send his hormones and his desires into overdrive.

“We’re really going to do it. Sherry and I are going to have sex.”

That thought kept playing out in his mind, overwriting all others as he turned off the engine and joined his girlfriend in the back seat. While they’d both planned this, Rod didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. The way he saw it, they weren’t throwing out the plan. They were just rearranging it.

“Hurry up, Rod!” she urged him as he stumbled into the back. “Don’t make me wait a second longer than I have to!”

“You won’t,” Rod said with more confidence than he’d had at any point in his life.

As he sought her intimate grasp, Rod kicked his loafers off and threw off his jacket. Sherry kicked off her shoes as well and was already unzipping the back part of her dress. Before they could get too ahead of themselves, though, he took her in his arms around her and kissed her. That sweet, romantic kiss he thought he’d save for their last dance of the night…it became an afterthought as his entire world now revolved around making love to Sherry.

“Mmm…Rod,” said Sherry, eagerly kissing back.

“Sherry,” Rod gasped upon tasting her lips.

It was so sweet and not just because of the expensive lipstick she wore. Kissing Sherry had always had a special feel to it, more so now than ever. He wasn’t just going to savor it. He was going to let it guide him into giving his girl the kind of sex she deserved.

The kissing, along with the embrace, quickly turned into a fervent make-out session. He and Sherry had enjoyed many such sessions, but none so heated. He could already feel the air in the car getting hotter as their lips twirled and their hands hungrily roamed. Sherry had already hitched her legs around his waist, grasping at his neck while he trailed his hand up her waist.

He could feel in her more than just arousal. There was a desire in her touch…a sincere, genuine desire that went beyond the basic need for sex.

“She wants me as much as I want her. God help me, I want to give her everything she deserves.”

Fueled by this desire, more clothes came off. Sherry made quick work of the bow-tie that took him five tries to get right before rapidly undoing the buttons to his dress shirt. Rod kept up, reaching behind and unzipping her dress the rest of the way. Once his shirt had been undone and her dress sufficiently loosened, they broke the embrace.

“Off! Get them off!” Sherry said with growing urgency.

He didn’t need that much incentive, but he took it anyway. While out of his girlfriend’s embrace, he practically threw off his dress shirt and the undershirt as well. Sherry did the same, pushing her dress down her body and tossing it over the passenger’s seat.

The first thing Rod noticed after that was that Sherry hadn’t been wearing a bra. She now wore only a pair of black lace panties, matching the style of her dress. While he had seen her breasts before, and even touched them, such a sexy sight sent him into a daze.

“That dress…didn’t do justice to your tits,” Rod said in a goofy tone.

“Stop staring and get those pants off, handsome!” Sherry said.

As eager and horny as Rod felt, that proved easier said than done. Moving around in the confined space was difficult, but Sherry made it easier. While he tried to stand up to undo his belt, Sherry reached over and did most of the work, undoing the zipper and pulling the neatly-pressed slacks down his legs along with his boxers.

By the time his dick popped free from its confines, it was already semi-hard and growing harder by the second. As soon as Sherry saw it, her face lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“Ooh Rod!” she said seductively. “Those pants didn’t do justice to your dick.”

“Very funny…and sexy, too,” Rod teased upon kicking off his pants. “Now, lay back and get those panties off!”

Mirroring the same urgent tone she’d used on him, Sherry did so without hesitation. Leaning back so that her head rested on the side door, she gave herself room to lift her hips and slide her panties down her thighs. Around halfway, Rod grabbed them and pulled them off, leaving his girlfriend and his prom date completely naked.

“Sherry…you’re so beautiful,” he said in a horny daze.

“And you’re so strong,” Sherry said with lust in her eyes, “so willing to work with me and be with me.”

“Worth it!”

They embraced and kissed again, prompting another make-out session that quickly evolved into full-fledged foreplay. This time, their naked bodies were unobstructed and unabated, her feminine curves meshing with his manly sinews. It was much better than itchy formal-ware, the feeling of a beautiful woman’s naked skin touching his.

The way her skin felt against his was nothing short of intoxicating. He wanted more and unlike his first sexual experience with Connie, he wasn’t the least bit anxious. Already, he had worked up a light sweat. The air within the car got muggy and sticky, but he didn’t care in the slightest. He was going to make love to his girlfriend, the prom be damned.

A part of him hadn’t forgotten his plan to make it better for her than her first time. That involved really building up the feeling, caressing her naked body to get the blood flowing in all the right directions. He could already feel the moist heat building between her thighs. He had to make sure she was fully aroused before the big moment.

“Sherry…are you ready?” he asked her, already breathless.

“Yes!” she gasped eagerly. “Please, Rod…I want feel you inside me.”

That desperate, passionate look in her eyes left no room for doubt. Acting on a potent combination of desire and urgency, Rod pushed Sherry’s thighs apart and positioned himself over her. He carefully aligned his member with her wet entrance, rubbing the tip up against the outer folds. Then, with a simple thrust of his hips, he entered her.

“Ohhh my God!” they both cried out, almost at the same time.

It felt even better than he had hoped, her hot womanly flesh surrounding his rigid manhood. It was like a true melding of bodies and passions, flooding his world with so many blissful feelings. He didn’t remember the moment being this powerful with Connie. Sherry must have been that special.

“Rod…ooh I feel it!” Sherry moaned. “It feels…so good.”

As soon as Rod heard that, he knew the most critical part of their plan was complete. They wanted their sex to feel better and be more meaningful than their previous experiences. If the look on his girlfriend’s face was any indication, they had already succeeded.

“Sherry…my lover,” Rod found himself saying.

Whether out of love or lust, those words set the tone. With their flesh now entwined, passion and hormones took over.

With Sherry up against the door and him hovering over her, Rod began moving his body with hers, establishing a steady, yet focused rhythm. She let out more moans while he let out more grunts, his rigid flesh moving within her tight depths, extracting raw sensations that evoked heightened feelings. As they moved together in a sexual heat, Rod captured her lips in another kiss. The way she kissed back only made those feelings more intense.

It was the kind of intimacy that most couples only dream about on their prom night…or any night, for that matter. They hadn’t even gotten to the prom yet and already, he and Sherry were experiencing the most romantic moment they had ever experienced. It almost seemed backwards, having such a moment before they even got to the prom. Regardless, something about it just felt right.

“I like this plan better…much better!”

Sweat quickly covered their bodies. The windows of his car became foggy as the air got even muggier. Whatever hairspray she’d used or cologne he’d put on had long since washed off. All that spectacle that the prom was supposed to build gave way to real, raw passion. It sure beat the hell out of dancing to cheesy pop music.

Rod wished the feeling could’ve lasted all night. Unfortunately, basic human biology – especially those of inexperienced teenagers – made that impossible. That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy it, though. At the very least, he wanted Sherry to come before he did. That meant holding back and exercising some discipline with his lust, but it turned out he didn’t have to hold back for very long.

“Rod! Oh…ohhh Rod! I’m close…very close,” Sherry told him.

“Sherry…” was all he could get out in the heat of the moment.

He kept kissing her, stepping up the pace of his movements in the process. He already knew how she liked to be embraced. Rod used that to his full advantage as he brought his girlfriend to orgasm.

“Ohhh Rod!” she cried out as the feeling hit.

Her lower back arched and her legs tensed as she got her release. She was pretty loud in her blissful proclamation, so much so that it left his ears ringing. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, it made the moment that much more special, knowing he had giving this girl that he cared for so deeply that much ecstasy.

He was more than happy to ease up on the rhythm and let her soak in the orgasmic feeling. However, Sherry didn’t linger for long. With her body still shuddering, she captured his lips again and shifted their bodies.

“Now…it’s your turn!” Sherry told him.

Not needing much explanation, Rod let his girlfriend take it from there. He soon found himself sitting up right in the sweat, Sherry straddling his hips and riding his cock. She held onto his shoulders for leverage, shoving her breasts in his face in a blatant effort to get him to climax too. It worked like a charm.

“Ohhh fuck, Sherry! I’m gonna come! I’m gonna…come!” Rod said with labored grunts.

“All…part of…the plan!” she said in between her heated motions.

Rod held on, grasping Sherry’s hips and bracing himself for the onslaught of ecstasy. When it hit, he closed his eyes, threw his head back, and let out a deep moan as he climaxed hard. It was, by far, the most satisfying, intimate feeling he’d ever felt.

Even as he soaked in the feeling, he could sense Sherry’s affectionate gaze on him. She even stopped moving her hips, allowing him to fully enjoy his release. As his member throbbed inside her, he opened his eyes to see that powerful gaze. At that moment, Rod came to an important realization.

“This is real. What Sherry and I have…it’s really real!”

As that realization sank in, they came together in another kiss. It was softer and less heated than before, but still conveyed the same feeling. What they had just done went beyond any high school dance. He and Sherry had essentially pre-empted the spirit of the prom and captured that romantic feeling all their own.

“Sherry,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“Yes, my lover?” said Sherry. “Which I can now say unironically, mind you.”

“If I said I love you…before we even get to the prom…before we carry out the rest of our plan…would that ruin anything?”

It was the most serious question Rod had ever asked someone. The smile on Sherry’s face never waned, though. That told him all he needed to know.

“Not in the slightest,” she told him.

“That’s…a relief,” he said, still breathless, “because I do love you. What we just did…on a night like this…I’m now comfortable saying that.”

“So am I,” she said, “because I love you too, Rod. Regardless of how the rest of the prom goes…I know what I feel. And I’m ready to celebrate it!”

Rod shot her a beaming smile and kissed her again, enjoying their sweaty, naked embrace as much as possible. Eventually, they would have to get dressed again. They might even have to clean themselves up so that they didn’t look like a couple that had just had sex in the back seat of a car.

They were probably end up being late to the prom, much to the chagrin of their friends. That didn’t matter, though. As far as Rod was concerned, he and Sherry had already captured the spirit of the prom.

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Tagged as erotic, erotic fiction, erotic stories, erotica, erotica fiction, erotica stories, fiction, Jack Fisher, Jack Fisher Blog, Jack Fisher Books, love, love stories, Prom, Prom Night, romance, romance stories, sex, sexy, sexy fiction, sexy short stories, sexy stories, sexy story, short stories

February 6, 2018 · 5:35 am

“Love Like Champions” A Sexy Short Story (About Super Bowl LII)

The following is a short, sexy story that was directly inspired by the outcome of Super Bowl LII and some of the passionate Eagles fans that I know personally. Enjoy!

“This game, Darla…this fucking game,” said Adam Mayfield, sounding more stressed than any man in his mid-30s should.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that, Adam,” Darla groaned, who’d stopped trying to calm him down.

“You’ve been keeping track?”

“What else is there to do when we’re out of buffalo wings and cheese dip?”

“I’m sorry, damn it!” he said. “It’s just…I had this same feeling 13 years ago the last time the Eagles played the Pats in the Super Bowl. That did not turn out well.”

“No need to remind me,” said Darla. “I remember…more than you know.”

He probably didn’t hear that last part. He was too caught up in the spectacle that was Super Bowl LII. Darla had anticipated a stressful night since the Eagles topped the Vikings two weeks ago. She and her long-time boyfriend, Adam, were as big an Eagles fan as they came. Them being in the Super Bowl was a test of heart, in more ways than one.

Unlike Adam, Darla hadn’t been born in Philadelphia. She’d moved there from Scranton about 15 years ago, following her father and uncle, who helped her get a job at a mortgage company. Being from a family with three brothers, each being big football fans themselves, she thought she knew what it meant to be a fan when she embraced the Eagles as her home team. Adam proved her wrong.

“How can I love a team so much, but be so frustrated by them?” Darla groaned.

She made it a point to say that out loud, hoping her lover would get the message. Either he was ignoring her or he’d tuned everything out. She was inclined to believe the latter, but Darla could never be sure. Adam was such a passionate man. That was a big reason why she fell in love with him. The frustrating part was how he channeled it during football season.

Adam came from a long line of Eagles fans. He’d been born in Philadelphia. His parents, grandparents, and siblings were all passionate about their team. During every game in every season, they wore their heart on their sleeve, cheering and lamenting their team through every win and every loss.

Darla thought she could handle cheering with them. She learned early on that Adam and his family were on a whole other level. It showed in how elated they were when the Eagles won and how miserable they were when the Eagles lost. However, even though she’d been with Adam for over a decade, she’d never seen him react to a Super Bowl loss. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I may have to take a trip to Baltimore tomorrow,” she muttered.

As much as Darla wanted to convey her sentiment to Adam, she too had an investment in the game. She didn’t want to see her team lose either. She was sick of getting crap from the Cowboys, Steelers, and 49er fans in her family, whose teams had multiple rings while hers had none. That had to change at some point, but she preferred it changed tonight.

“It’s not enough of a lead,” Adam said, his hands clasped together as though he were praying to the football gods. “38 to 33 with more than two minutes left and Tom fucking Brady at quarterback? If the Falcons couldn’t hold on with a 25-point lead last year, for crying out loud!”

“These aren’t the Falcons, babe. These are the Eagles,” Darla reminded him. “This is our team.”

“I know. That’s what scares me even more.”

His pessimism was annoying, but usually right. There was a reason why the Eagles had never won a Super Bowl. They had a tendency to choke in these exact situations whereas the Patriots seemed to thrive.

Darla stayed on her side of the couch, almost not wanting to watch Brady pull off another late-game miracle at the expense of her favorite team. She couldn’t turn away, though. She kept watching.

It felt like her stomach was up in her throat. She noticed Adam anxiously tapping his feet, something he only did when he was extremely nervous. The last time she saw that kind of nervousness, he asked her to move in with him. She could only imagine the kind of tension he felt now.

It was second and two from the 33. The Patriots offense had over two minutes left, a timeout, and the greatest quarterback of all time being coached by one of the greatest coaches of all time. It seemed like the story had already been written. Brady would drive the Patriots down the field, score the game-winning touchdown, and go home as a six-time Super Bowl champion while the Eagles remained winless in the big game.

“Please, just get it over with,” Adam groaned. “My heart can only take so much of this shit.”

“They’ll find a way,” said Darla, trying to will the fates in her team’s favor. “They have to!”

They watched on. The ball was snapped. Then, it happened.

“FUMBLE!” Adam shouted, shooting up from the couch as though he’d been struck by lightning.

“THEY GOT IT! EAGLES BALL!” Darla said, shouting as well.

In an instant, the mood shifted from dread to elation. She shot up and embraced her boyfriend and cheered at the sudden turn of events. She could even hear the cheers outside. All of downtown Philadelphia must have seen what they just saw. The Eagles had just forced a fumble and recovered the ball. The sight of Tom Brady, the so-called greatest of all time, sitting there on the turf in defeat was just too satisfying.

“It’s really happening. They might really do it!” Darla cheered, still clinging to her boyfriend.

“I know! It’s not over yet, but they’re close!” Adam exclaimed. “They’re so goddamn close this time!”

“Then, you better hold onto me, babe. I’m still not sure this is real.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting go until the last tic on the clock!”

It might have been superstition. It might have been the sheer weight of the moment. Whatever the reason, she and Adam clung to one another, still trembling with excitement at the prospect of their team finally winning the Super Bowl. If that moment finally came, it had to happen when they were in each other’s arms. It just had to be that way.

Her heart still racing and her passions still in overdrive, she and Adam sat back down on the couch. He grasped her hand firmly while she clung to his favorite Eagles jersey, which he wore for every game. They watched as the Eagles did the most they could with the ball.

They ran it three times, taking as much time off the clock as possible. They couldn’t get a first down, but they still managed a field goal, putting them up 41 to 33. There was still a minute left. Even with no timeouts, it was still the New England Patriots. It was still Tom Brady at quarterback.

“41 to 33,” Darla said, holding her lover a bit closer. “That’s going to be the final score.”

“I hope you’re right, Darla. I really do,” Adam said, still affected by the Eagles’ history of disappointment.

“It’ll happen. I know it will. You’ll see!”

She made it sound as though she’d already seen the final score. Darla learned early on in her time as an Eagles fan that victory was never secure. However, she refused to give into the dread this time. She was certain her team would win.

The next minute might have been the longest in the history of sports. The Patriots got the kickoff. They messed up on a few plays, but managed to move the ball to midfield. With each yard they gained, she felt Adam tremble a bit more, doubt and dread creeping into him with every play. She held him a little closer, as if to protect him from it. She wanted him to believe as strongly as she did.

Finally, it all came down to one play. With 9 seconds left and no timeouts, it was down to a final Hail Mary to the end zone.

“This is it,” Darla told him. “This is the last play of the game.”

“Please, be right,” Adam said. “I want you to be right…so much.”

“I know.”

“No…I don’t think you do.”

Darla cast her lover a strange glance, but didn’t have time to scrutinize it. The play was about to go off. As soon as the Patriots snapped the ball, time seemed to move in slow-motion.

For a moment, it looked like Brady would get sacked. She sensed Adam wanting to shoot up and cheer. That didn’t happen, though. He managed to escape, as he always did, and got the throw off. At that moment, Darla almost felt her heart crack again.

“Not this time,” she said in defiance.

She and Adam watched, like a couple of deer looking at an oncoming train. The ball hung up in the air for an eternity. The game clock now read zero. It all came down to this.

Finally, in an instant, it actually happened. The ball hit the ground. The pass was incomplete. The game was over and the Philadelphia Eagles were Super Bowl champions.

“YES! THEY DID IT! THEY REALLY FUCKING DID IT!” Adam exclaimed.

“THEY WON! OH MY GOD! THE EAGLES WON!” Darla exclaimed.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated elation, Darla and Adam cheered with the rest of Philadelphia. They jumped up from the couch and hugged, as though they’d just won the lottery. Earlier that year, winning the lottery seemed more likely than seeing the Eagles win their first ever Super Bowl. After only knowing disappointment for so long, Eagles fans like her and Adam could finally say that they won.

They kept wildly hugging each other and cheering, watching as the confetti fell on their favorite team. They didn’t care that they knocked over some empty beer bottles and crumbled up bags of chips. Their team had won. For once, she and Adam knew what it felt like for their favorite team to be a Super Bowl champion.

At one point after all the cheering, they settled down enough to face each other. Adam hadn’t let go of her since before the fumble. She hadn’t let go of him either, still clinging to his favorite jersey. Now, in this moment of pure elation, they looked at each other with a sense of both shock and triumph.

“You were right, babe. You were right,” Adam said.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” Darla said with a smug grin.

“You really have no idea how much I wanted the Eagles to win this…to finally see them win a championship.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I know you’re a bigger Eagles fan than I’ll ever be, Adam. You deserve to run down Broad Street and cheer with other fans like you.”

“See, that’s just it,” he said in a more serious tone. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. My buddies at the office all had elaborate plans for how they would celebrate if they won, but I wanted no part of it. I knew if this actually happened…if the Eagles actually won…this is where I’d want to be.”

Darla’s heart skipped a beat. Adam had that look in his eye, the kind she saw when he wanted to get extra romantic with her. She hadn’t expected to see that tonight, even if the Eagles won. During football season, she’d always been content to let him cheer victor or mourn defeat in his own way. It was an unspoken rule, of sorts, that they stayed out of each other’s way when that happened.

However, there was something different about this and not just because the Eagles had won the Super Bowl. That same passion that Adam usually channeled into every Eagles game was now solely focused on her.

“Darla, I know I’m not the easiest guy to love. Hell, I’m not even the top 50,” he told her.

“Adam, I know you get worked up after Eagles games,” Darla said. “Are you really sure you want talk to me like this after the biggest game in Eagles history?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Adam said without hesitation. “We’ve been together for 13 years now. In that time, we’ve built a great life together…one that often revolves around rooting for the Eagles. I know I don’t say it enough and I doubt I’ll ever have the mind to say it again, but I’ve treasured every moment of that life…from the worst loses to this amazing win.”

Now, Darla’s hard raced even more than it had before the fumble. This couldn’t possibly be what it sounded like. She and Adam had already discussed it on more than one occasion. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They had made that relationship work for over a decade. She thought that was how it had to be. Darla had made peace with that long ago.

However, when she saw Adam get down on one knee, hold her hand in his, and look up at her as though she were the Lombardi Trophy, it began to sank in. A Super Bowl parade wouldn’t be the only celebration tonight.

“Darla Mason,” Adam said, “when we met 13 years ago, I was at the lowest possible point. The Eagles had just lost the Super Bowl. I had no job, too much student debt, and a bad history of dating women who couldn’t put up with me. You changed that. You came along when I was at my lowest, stuck with me when you could’ve walked away, and loved me more than I ever deserved.”

“Adam…you’re making me feel like the Super Bowl MVP, here,” Darla said, her heart ready to burst.

“Now, here we are…13 years later, watching the same Philadelphia Eagles beat the New England Patriots. We’ve gone from one devastating lost to the most exhilarating victory possible. I say, let’s make it our own personal dynasty! Merry me, Darla. Merry me and let’s fly together like a couple of Eagles!”

Darla didn’t think it was possible for something to sound so corny, yet so heartfelt. Adam had to have rehearsed it ways for weeks on end, possibly since the Eagles clinched a playoff spot. The Eagles win the Super Bowl. He proposes to her. Given how they came together after they lost 13 years ago, it seemed so fitting. That made her response just as obvious.

“Yes!” Darla said eagerly. “Yes, Adam…I will marry you.”

“God, I love you, Darla.”

“I love you too, my future husband. Now, shut up and kiss me like a champion!”

Adam didn’t need a trophy or a call from the President to heed her desire. He shot up from the floor, threw his arms around her, and embraced her passionately as they came together in a deep kiss.

It still took a moment to sink in, both the Eagles being Super Bowl champions and her being engaged now. It was a hell of a feeling, a bigger rush than anything she’d felt before in her life. The sound of rowdy Eagles fans cheering outside could be heard. She imagined there would be a hell of a party down Broad Street for the rest of the night. They could enjoy that party. She intended to have one of her own with Adam.

As they kissed and hugged, the sound and images of the Eagles’ victory playing out on the TV, Darla felt those same passions that she and Adam channeled so strongly take a new form. They were champions. They were engaged. They were in love. With so much excitement and elation surrounding them, there was only one other way this night could be more perfect.

“Adam,” Darla said breathlessly as their lips briefly parted.

“Yes, my future wife?” he said playfully.

“Do me,” she told him. “Right here…in the living room…with the Eagles accepting the Lombardi trophy!”

Adam’s reaction to those intense, seductive words were priceless. Still awash in the thrill of victory, he had the look of a man who could slay a dragon for his woman. It was more than enough to set the tone for how they would celebrate their team’s victory.

“Darla, if you could be any sexier without wearing an Eagles cheerleader costume,” he told her.

“You want me to go find a costume? Or do you want to get naked right now and make love like a champion?”

“Well, I was going to call my folks and share the news first, but…”

His words trailed off as his desires took over. He kissed her again, this time with the passion of a champion. Darla kissed back, eager to match that same championship-caliber energy. For such a powerful moment that had been 13 years in the making, nothing less was acceptable.

Like a couple of pros, they went to work undressing each other. Adam pulled her favorite Eagles sweatshirt up over her head while she undid his jeans. Then, in a show of strength that would’ve impressed any starting offensive lineman, he lifted her up in his arms and laid her down on the couch.

Shortly after she fell atop the soft cushions, he took off his pants and underwear, followed quickly by his shirt. Whether by the thrill of victory or the passion of having proposed to his lover, he already bore a rock-hard erection. He looked so strong and powerful under the glow of an Eagles’ victory. It was enough to make Darla wetter than she’d been since her prom night.

“Off! Get my panties…off,” she urged him.

Her lover gladly obliged her, grabbing them by the side and sliding them off her shapely legs. She even undid her bra in the process, allowing her breasts to pop free. The sight of her naked body with the image of Eagles players kissing the Lombardi Trophy in the background sent Adam into a passionate frenzy that Darla eagerly embraced.

“Darla…my MVP,” Adam said to her.

Joining her on the couch, her new fiancé got on top of her. She eagerly spread her legs, allowing him to position herself over her while still having a nice view of the Eagles celebrating their championship. Holding onto her thighs and focusing that special passion of his solely on her, Adam thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ooh Adam!” Darla cried out.

Already, she felt like an MVP. His manly flesh filled her womanly depth, sending a surge of sensation up through her core. Almost immediately, Adam began working his body against hers, making love to her with a fervor unlike anything she’d experience in the 13 years they’d been together.

With each movement, he rocked her world, letting out deep grunts that doubled as sounds of victory. He held onto her thighs, holding them apart, which allowed him to penetrate deep with every thrust. Darla moaned with delight at every sensation, reaching up and caressing her lover’s face. She kept beckoning him with her gaze, urging him to make love to. Like star quarterback in the clutch, he delivered.

“Oh yes! Oohhh yes!” Darla gasped. “Adam…my champion.”

“Darla…my love,” he said.

Her world kept rocking as their naked bodies moved and gyrated together in the ultimate victory dance, evoking a potent combination of pleasure and triumph. At one point, Darla pulled him down closer so they could kiss as they made love. It added extra intimacy along with the euphoria of victory.

It proved to be a perfect combination, victory and love. She and Adam, energized by their team’s first championship, tested the stability of their eight-year-old couch. They made love with the kind of vigor and passion that only champions could muster.

One moment, he had her bent over the edge, thrusting into her from behind so she could see the Commissioner present the Lombardi Trophy to Eagles owner, Jeffrey Lurie. The next, she had him pinned on his back, riding his cock as the players sang the Eagles fight song play while accepting their congratulations. Somewhere along the way, she had an orgasm. In fact, she ended up having several.

That rush of pleasure, alongside the thrill of being engaged and being an Eagles fan on this night, made it extra special. It was a feeling she made sure she shared with her lover, making sure he got more than his share of the pleasure when he achieved his own climax.

“Darla…I’m close,” he told her.

“Then, go on, my love. Fly with me with me…like an Eagle,” Darla said, mirroring his own passionate words.

When it finally happened, she made it a point to embrace him passionately, tying her love with the heat of ecstasy. Those same cheers he let out when the game ended turned to cries of ecstasy. It helped cap off a truly remarkable celebration for a very memorable Super Bowl Sunday, one that Darla wouldn’t soon forget.

Their championship lovemaking complete, Darla settled into her lover’s arms. They remained naked, still indulging in the blissful afterglow of both passion and victory. Other fans might cheer. Others might loudly proclaim that this was the best night in the history of Philadelphia. However, only Darla and her lover could claim to know the true bliss of soaring like eagles.

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