Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Thanksgiving 2019 Edition

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I hope everyone is excited, happy, and hungry because it’s almost here. Thanksgiving, a holiday centered around food, family, and football, is almost upon us. As someone with a strong appreciation of all three of those things, it’s only natural that I have a special affinity for Thanksgiving. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve only had more things to be thankful for.

This past year has been very challenging. I’ve undergone quite a bit of growth in my personal and professional life. Compared to last year, which was mired by major personal losses, I consider this year to be a major improvement. Thanksgiving often gives me a chance to take a step back and appreciate my life, my family, and the people who make it special.

I hope everyone else out there enjoys a similar tradition. Whether it involves a small gathering with your family or a much larger spectacle, it’s a great opportunity to celebrate and reflect on the past year. You have a chance to appreciate how far you’ve dome and contemplate how much further you want to go.

I certainly have plans to tell more sexy stories and share more sexy thoughts. For now, with Thanksgiving just a few days away, I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who has helped make this website a joy to build upon. Consider the following round of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts as a little appetizer for the festivities to come. Enjoy!


“Pity sex is the only kind of sex that requires one person to be turned on by failure.”


“Whoever first came up with the idea that sharing is caring was probably trying to negotiate a three-way.”


“A true gentleman knows how to admire a woman’s tits tactfully.”


“On some level, dating is just an extended job interview on behalf of your genitals.”


“Masturbation is the only gift that truly keeps on giving.”


“A rich, charming man will still never have as many options as an adventurous, bisexual woman.”


“Better acting and a more developed story are the only things that keep porn from being romantic.”


Once again, I hope everyone has some exciting Thanksgiving plans to look forward to. I’m already working up an appetite. I hope you are too. Until then, may your holidays be filled with the food, family, and football that make Thanksgiving so special.

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“Treat Day” A Sexy Short Story (About Food)

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The following is a sexy short story that mixes delicious treats and tender lovemaking. It’s a potent and passionate combination, if ever there was one. With Thanksgiving less than a week away, I hope it helps everyone work up an appetite, among other things. Enjoy!

“Everyone needs an occasional treat day. It makes the rigors of life worthwhile.”

That was the mantra that Wesley Wyatt preached to his clients as their personal trainer, certified nutritionist, and sometimes life coach. It helped communicate the message the health, beauty, and vitality required hard work and incredible discipline. Achieving any worthwhile goal demanded some amount of sacrifice, including the strain of exercise or the distress of abstaining from delicious food.

Wesley learned that first a college athlete turned and again as an assistant coach. Having been sickly, overweight, and unhealthy as a kid, he valued those lessons more than most. He tried to impart them onto his clients, as well. However, another part of that lesson involved tasting the fruits of their labor and not just with respect to looking good at the beach.

He actually encouraged his clients to set aside a certain time of the week to enjoy a special treat. Other trainers called it a “cheat day.” He called it a “treat day.” To Wesley, it wasn’t just a tactic to help others endure the demands of his program. It acted as a catalyst that made people hungrier for life’s greater joys. In his experience, it motivated people more than barking orders.

He knew this not just because his services commanded high prices from professional athletes, celebrities, and models. A big part of what made Wesley so effective as a trainer was that he practiced what he preached. He’d been doing so every Friday night since his senior year in high school. What made it even more effective was that he shared his treat day with someone special.

“Are you ready for your weekly treat, my darling?” asked the angelic voice belonging to Lina Hope-Wyatt.

“I’m ready, my love,” Wesley said intently, “ready and hungry.”

“Then, what are you waiting for? Pass the butter, please!”

He’d been waiting all week to hear those beautiful words. Every week, the wait was arduous, but always worth it. Tonight was no exception.

Lying atop an inflatable mattress, which he’d set up in the basement den of a suburban house, was his high school sweetheart turned wife. What she’d just told him let him know that his favorite treat once again awaited him. Even enjoying it regularly for years, it got him excited in all the right ways.

“My God, you make it sound so sexy,” he told her.

“I know,” she chuckled in a playful tone. “And to think, other women have to resort to dirty talk and imported lingerie to turn their husbands on.”

“Guess I’m just that lucky.”

“Hand me that butter and you’ll feel even luckier!”

Lina casually held out her hand, casting him that seductive glance that she knew drove him wild. Wesley, standing over the inflated mattress in nothing but a pair of unwashed sweatpants, eagerly gave in. He reached out and handed her a tub of body butter that he’d melted in the microwave. Once she had, it she put it to good use.

Without hesitation or concern about making a mess, she poured the hot, viscous substance over her half-naked body. It was a sight that got Wesley’s heart racing and his blood flowing. It also filled the room with the sweet smell of melted butter. The aroma reminded him of his favorite desserts as much as his favorite moments with the woman he loved. It made his stomach growl and his pants tighten.

“Mmm…I feel luckier already,” Wesley said as he watched his wife smother the slippery substance over her naked skin.

“I can tell,” Lina said, her gaze narrowing on the bulge of his pants. “You must have had a long week…a long, hard week.”

“You have no idea,” he told her.

“I had to work late and skip long showers to meet deadlines,” she said, rubbing the butter on her body more intently. “Believe me. I have some idea.”

Wesley licked his lips in anticipation and watched his love put on a sexy show. Still hovering intently over the mattress, he watched Lina smother herself with the melted body butter that they always kept in stock within their home. She wasn’t careful with it, either. She spread it on every part of her body, from head to toe. Within minutes, she glistened like a goddess under the dimmed lights of the spacious den.

He’d seen this show many times before, but it never ceased to astonish him. Watching Lina pour a tub of body butter over her body was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen. Like him, she’d been an athlete in college. Also like him, she worked hard to maintain a stunning figure that helped made her the face of the modeling agency she co-founded with her older sister. Her voluptuous feminine figure had made bikinis, lingerie, and even pajamas look sexy.

However, what she wore on Friday nights rarely made it onto centerfolds. Instead of lace panties or fancy lingerie, she opted for a simple pair of edible panties. They had to be edible because it helped their enjoyment of this weekly treat. Wesley even made it a point to have a light dinner so that he would be hungry enough for this moment.

Lina must have been hungry too because didn’t even bother with a bra this time, letting her perfect breasts hang out for him to see. She even applied extra butter to her breasts, mashing them together and shooting him that seductive gaze that let him know their treat was almost ready.

“What do you think, my hungry hubby?” Lina asked with playful casualness. “I’m all hot, horny, and buttered up.”

“I think you just described the most important ingredients to our favorite treat,” he told her. “After a week of garden salads, protein shakes, and egg-whites, I’m ready for something sweeter.”

“As am I, my darling,” she said. “So, what are you waiting for? Have a taste!”

Wesley couldn’t temper his appetites any further. The bucket of body butter was empty. His beautiful wife was completely covered, her body glowing with an erotic halo and exuding a delectable aroma. A good portion of the substance flowed off her, onto the inflatable mattress, and over the sides. They had a few towels on the floor to soak up the mess, but clean-up was the last thing on his mind. His wife had made him his favorite treat and he craved a taste.

His mouth watering and his every breath thick with arousal, he joined his wife on the inflatable bed. First, he laid down on top of her and kissed her lips. Much to his surprise and delight, she wore that fancy brand of lipstick that made her lips taste like candy. He showed his appreciation by kissing her with extra passion and intensity.

Next, he trailed his lips down her face and neck, his exposed chest and upper body pressing against hers, smearing plenty of the butter onto him as well. Plenty of it got on his pants, in his hair, and all over his face, but he couldn’t care less. As soon as he tasted her smooth, butter-laden skin, his senses were inundated with the sweetest delights.

“Mmm…delicious!” Wesley said while licking around her cleavage.

“Oohhh! You are hungry tonight!” Lina said, already squealing with joyous delight.

Following both his hunger and his passions, Wesley licked and suckled his way down to his love’s breasts. She’d applied extra to her gorgeous mounds. She loved having her breasts fondled and she knew he loved fondling them. He rarely needed extra incentive, but he followed it anyways, kneading her breasts and suckling on her hardened nipples.

“Ooh! Keep that up and you’ll make me just as hungry!” Lina said.

“Good to know,” Wesley said coyly.

He gave each breast a firm squeeze, spreading the buttery substance around before thoroughly licking it up. Lina reacted with more euphoric squeals. He felt her slippery body writhe under his touch, her arousal becoming more animated by the second. That was part of his goal. To share in their favorite treat, her appetite needed to match his.

After thoroughly tasting her breasts, Wesley made his way down her well-toned core. He eventually arrived at her inner thighs, which were still covered by the edible panties. By then, the panties had become soaked in the butter. It had the scent of a freshly baked biscuit that had just come out of the oven. In that moment, the blurred the line between hunger and passion become hopelessly blurred.

“The smell…the taste,” Wesley said in a daze, “I want it so much!”

Like a kid gorging on his favorite treat, he ripped up the panties and began consuming them, along with his lover’s moist womanhood. While edible panties weren’t known for their palatable taste, the presence of melted butter made them as delicious as any dessert. The fact that Wesley had a light dinner showed, but the fact he hadn’t tasted Lina’s intimate flesh showed even more.

“Oohhh yeah! Bon appétit!” she cooed.

He quickly ran out of panties to consume. It left him only with his wife’s exposed, butter-laden pussy. That proved plenty appetizing, especially for a man whose love of weekly treats was only matched by the love he had for his wife.

Wesley lapped up Lina’s womanly flesh with both desire and determination. He grabbed onto her thighs, pushed her legs apart, and followed his tongue into the moist slit that radiated her intoxicating arousal.

He licked up and down her slit, giving special attention to her clit. That got her moaning. Then, he lapped his tongue inside her folds, hitting those sensitive spots he knew so well. That got her moaning even louder. Her taste was so unique, the moist flesh mixing with the buttery substance in perfect harmony. It didn’t just make the act of giving oral sex more effective. It made it downright delicious.

“That’s it, babe! That’s it!” Lina moaned. “Eat me! Devour my pussy!”

Hearing those moans and those words of hungry passion encouraged Wesley to keep gorging. They also helped inflame his own burning arousal.

By now, his pants were just unbearably tight. They were covered in body butter and heavily stained. With this face still buried in Lina’s pussy, he let go of her thighs and shed his dirtied pants as quickly as he could. Upon kicking them to the side, he gave his wife’s womanly folds a few more teasing licks before retracing his path with his lips, ascending her naked body until he was lying on top of her.

“Ready for the main course?” Wesley said, grinning even as his face dripped with a mix of butter and feminine juices.

“As ready as any hungry wife can be!” Lina said, grinning lovingly back at him.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, locking him in an embrace that enmeshed her butter-covered flesh with his naked body. It was so hot and slippery, the sinews of their flesh melding perfectly in their intimate embrace. It added both heat and hunger to their passion and Wesley was ready to indulge both.

Now immersed in her loving grip, he aligned his body with hers, guiding his throbbing hard manhood to her moist entrance. That was uniquely challenging for two naked bodies atop an inflatable mattress, but their intimate hold on one another helped get them into position. However, their passion proved greater than any challenge. Once in position, Wesley initiated with sweetest part of their treat, entering his love and filling her waiting womanhood with manly length.

“Lina…my sweet wife,” he gasped.

“Wesley…my sweet husband,” she moaned.

For a moment, they lingered in the heat of their intimate union, gazing into one another’s eyes and soaking in the moment. Then, Wesley drew his wife into a loving kiss. Their lips locked, he began moving their bodies in a heat of intimate motions. Both the lover and the professional trainer in him showed. Even the act of enjoying a delicious treat required some extra effort.

“Mmm…bon appétit, indeed,” Wesley said, mirroring his wife’s sultry tone from earlier.

“Oohhh yes!” was all she got out.

With slippery flesh, surrounded in an aroma of buttery sweat and intimate heat, he made love to Lina in a way befitting of his hungry heart. Every movement was intense, focused, and through. He made use of his muscular arms and strong hands, maintain a firm grip on her hips as he rhythmically worked his body along hers. His manly flesh slithered smoothly and seamlessly inside her womanly folds, turning sweet sentiments into delicious pleasure that flowed freely between their bodies.

The presence of the body butter made their lovemaking uniquely special. Every kiss, touch, and thrust was so effortless and intoxicating. There was no hindrance or undue friction. Together, they could maximize every motion, enjoying the fullest extent of their passion and then some. It was like dipping a delicious treat in more frosting. For two lovers whose jobs involved discipline and restraint, it was wonderfully intoxicating.

“This is it,” Wesley mused as he made love to his wife. “This makes it all worth it…every struggle, every strain, and every sacrifice. This makes it so worth it!”

He lovingly indulged in that feeling with his wife, sharing every taste of ecstasy every step of the way. They wildly kiss, touched, groped, and humped atop the flimsy air mattress, not caring at all that they slipped around and made a bigger mess. Great indulgence tended to leave big messes in their wake. He and Lina, true to their competitive nature, loved pushing that concept to the limit.

Over the course of training, pushing limits often meant enduring strain. When making love, however, it was the complete opposite. Pushing themselves incurred greater ecstasy. More ecstasy inspired more effort. For an act that he and Lina pursued as a treat, it was as fitting as it was satisfying.

Through their naked, undulating movements, Wesley and his wife filled the den with the potent scent of sweat, sex, and body butter. They tested both their endurance and the ability of an inflatable mattress to support two naked bodies. They drew it out, pushed themselves, and indulged in every tasty desire, building towards a climax that doubled as the ultimate desert.

“I’m close, darling. I’m so…so close!” Lina said, whispering into his ear as while his face was buried in her shoulder.

“So am I!” he said. “I’m ready…when you are!”

“Just a little longer. Just a little…bit…oohhh God!”

He felt her body tremble in anticipation of her release. Lina always got very animated when she climaxed. She bent her knees back, curled her toes, and raked her nails down his sweaty, butter-laden back in anticipation. Wesley steadied the pace of his movements, squeezing her hips in just such a way that it gave her the extra nudge she needed.

When she came, it hit her like a thunderous surge. She let out a euphoric cry that left his ears ringing in the best possible way. In his embrace, he could feel her body writhe under the onslaught of pleasure. The hot throbbing sensation around his member inside her helped give him the nudge he needed as well. When he crossed that threshold, he shared in that delightful desire, letting out a deep grunt that acted as the cherry atop their favorite treat.

“Delicious! So…delicious!” he said in the throughs of ecstasy.

The heated movements finally settled. Hard male flesh and warm feminine depths converged to make their intimate bliss tangible and real. As their fluids mixed and their bodies remained enmeshed, Wesley took her hand in his, enlacing their fingers before kissing her passionately once more.

Her lips still had that sweet, cherry-flavored taste. For the treat they’d just shared, it was so fitting. As they soaked in the waning moments of their indulgence, Wesley withdrew from his love and laid down next to her. Their naked bodies glistened with sweat, butter, and afterglow. She remained curled up next to him, his arms draped around her while they digested their latest treat.

“I love you,” he told her in his impassioned daze.

“I love you too,” Lina said with a beaming, post-coital smile. “And I love how you go about sharing your favorite treats.”

“You help make it worth sharing. For all the work we do…for the love we’ve built all these years…it’s truly the ultimate treat.

 

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Movember Memories: A Story About Sweat (And Other Manly Issues)

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Greetings and I hope everyone is in the Movember spirit. Last year, I decided to become a part of this effort. I feel it’s an objectively good cause that aims to help real people in need. I sincerely hope others join that effort over time.

For those who are unaware, Movember is a movement that started with the Movember Foundation. This foundation works to raise awareness of and donate money towards major issues that predominately impact men. Those issues include research for prostate cancer, mental health treatment, and suicide prevention. These are all wonderful causes to support and I encourage everyone to donate to the foundation.

As part of my effort to help with this cause, I shared a personal story last year about the time I grew a thick beard in college and some of the colorful lessons that taught me. This year, I’d like to do something similar and tell another story. However, this is a different kind of story and one I think offers a more relevant message to the Movember spirit.

This particular story comes from right from one of the most respectable men in my life, my father. He told me this story a few years back when he recounted the time he’d spent in the military. It’s a story that, at the time, we just thought was funny. I still think it is. I also think it has a deeper message that’s more relevant today, especially for men.

Before I continue, I want to make clear that I may not get all the details of this story correct. My father, who I know occasionally reads this site, might reach out to me and note a few corrections. If that’s the case, I’ll gladly update it. That said, I recall enough to ensure I can capture the heart of the story.

The setting of this story is fairly simple. It’s the mid-1970s on a military base in the Midwest. At the time, my dad is done with basic and is officially on active duty. However, he hasn’t been deployed so much of those duties involve basic grunt work around the base. It’s a typical, standard military life for a young man at the time.

One unique part of that life, however, involved a grizzled old officer who, out of respect for this amazing American, I’ll just call the Colonel. The Colonel is basically the senior officers of senior officers at the base. He’s been in the military all his life. He fought in World War II. He probably knows General Patton’s shoe size.

He’s also old enough and has enough seniority to not have a filter. He does not give a damn and won’t hesitate to say the things that would get a typical private punched in the jaw. As a result, he has a special kind of respect and admiration from young soldiers, like my dad. They would gladly share a beer with the Colonel and joke with him without the fear of push-ups.

While that lack of a filter made him popular with soldiers like my dad, it made the Colonel a nuisance to the other officers. Most were content to just overlook his charming personality and chalk it up to being a cantankerous old man. However, that same jaded charm sometimes caused a spectacle.

This one particular spectacle occurred on a day in which the officers and recruits had another regular meeting in the barracks. This was standard for active duty soldiers and my dad had gone through it many times before. He sat in his assigned seat with the rest of his unit. The officers, including the Colonel, sat in the back.

These meetings were often tedious, but a big part of what made them such a drag was the heat. These barracks did not have air conditioning and were not well-ventilated. It was basically an over-sized locker room, full of several dozen men in full military gear. Needless to say, it got uncomfortably sticky at times.

However, since this was the military and good soldiers were conditioned not to complain, nobody said anything about it. My dad certainly didn’t. No one in his unit did, either. They all wanted to. It was one of the most common complaints among his unit.

Finally, one day, the Colonel spoke up. His exact words were as follows.

“Hey! How come no one wants to talk about sweat?”

For other young soldiers, like my dad, who had sat through one too many sweaty meetings, it was a true Spartacus moment. This old guy who hadn’t given a fuck since the Kennedy Administration finally said what they all were thinking. It still earned him an irate look from the other officers, but he got the message across.

This was an issue. It mattered to them. It was taboo to bring up so the one guy whose filter died years ago broke it. It might not have solved the problem, but acknowledging it was a good start.

I wish I could describe the grin on my dad’s face when he first told this story. I could tell it was a fond memory from a strange time in his life, but it’s a story that still resonates with me. It’s also one I think we can learn from.

One of the chief goals of the Movember Foundation is to raise awareness of issues that affect men, but that’s tricky these days, given the current state of gender politics. When the topic of men’s issues come up, it often gets cast aside as rabid anti-feminism or cloaked misogyny. Even if there are legitimate issues, such as prostate cancer and mental health, it still carries negative connotations.

I get the sense that has changed somewhat in recent years. I think there has been somewhat of a backlash to the more extreme elements of gender politics. Issues that effect men are being taken more seriously and I think the Movember Foundation is helping with that. The challenge is being the one to stand up in a hot, crowded room and asking the questions that others are afraid to ask.

How come no one wants to talk about sweat?

You could just as easily apply that to other issues involving men.

How come no one wants to talk about the disparity in cancer research between prostate cancer and breast cancer?

How come no one wants to talk about men committing suicide at higher rates?

How come no one wants to talk about men falling behind in pursuing higher education?

How come no one wants to talk about male victims of domestic abuse?

These are all real issues that effect real people. At the end of the day, regardless of what our gender is, we’re still human. Even issues that effect only part of us ultimately impact all of us. I hope we can all channel the spirit of the Colonel and ask why we’re not talking about these issues. While that old man might not be with us, his message still is. It started with sweat, but it can apply to much more.

Again, in the spirit of Movember, please consider donating to the Movember Foundation and supporting the meaningful work it does.

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Why The “Terminator” Franchise Has Faltered (And How To Revive It)

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Some franchises just aren’t built to last. It’s a sad fact of life. Sometimes, the things we love just cannot grow and blossom. Not every franchise can be like the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In fact, every effort to mirror the success of the MCU has either failed or come up short. For some, it just doesn’t have resources to grow to that extent. In some cases, trying to force a franchise into something it’s not will only hurt it even more.

The latest franchise to learn this the hard way is the “Terminator.” Believe me when I say I take no joy in saying that. I’ve always had a special place in my heart for all things “Terminator.” The original 1984 film was one of the first R-rated movies that my parents let me watch. I remember being scared, but thrilled at the same time. As a kid, that was a major step up from traditional Disney movies.

Then, I saw “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” and the highest of bars was set. Like the first movie, it thrilled and amazed me to no end. At the same time, it struck many emotional chords, especially at the end. I still get choked up to this day when I hear the T-800 tell John, “I know now why you cry, but it is something I can never do.” There’s a good reason why many rank this among the greatest movies of all time.

A big part of what made that movie great was how it completed the story. What began with Sarah Connor’s journey in the first film ended beautifully in the second. It was as complete a story as it could’ve been. To make a sequel after that would’ve been like trying to improve on the Mona Lisa. While the prospect of sequels still interested me, I never got the sense that they could improve on what the first two movies did.

That didn’t stop Hollywood from trying multiple times. While some of those movies had their moments, they never came close to improving on the first two. If anything, each sequel did more and more damage to the franchise. It showed in both the critical reception and the box office. Now, with “Terminator: Dark Fate” an outright flop, the state of this franchise is dire.

Some are already saying it’s dead. I don’t agree with that. It’s in critical condition. That’s for certain. However, I don’t think it’s doomed to the archives of cinematic history. I believe it’s worth taking a step back to understand why the franchise has faltered so badly. I also believe that there is a way to revive it for a new generation.

The reasons the franchise declined are many. Ask a dozen people who love the franchise as much as I do and chances are you’ll get several dozen answers from each of them. They usually boil down to reasons like this.

The ending of “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” was too perfect and final to improve upon.

The sequels muddied and messed up the timeline more than it already was.

The sequels focused too much on action and not enough on the horror of the first movie or the drama of the second.

The sequels didn’t utilize enough of the original cast, relying heavily on the star power of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

The sequels undermined or undercut the impact of the first two movies.

The sequels were too focused on setting up a trilogy rather than making one solid movie.

The threats in the sequels were too bland and predictable, relying too much on newer Terminators fighting older Terminators.

Personally, I think every one of these reasons has merit, but some have more than others. When I re-watch “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” and compare it to the sequels, I can clearly see the difference from a cinematic and storytelling standpoint. That movie was made to complete the story that James Cameron started telling with the first. Every other sequel was made to set up more sequels.

From there, every other issue compounded. The focus of the movies was less about having a genuine impact and more about teasing a future movie. That only works if the first movie is successful and that didn’t happen with any of the sequels after “Terminator 2: Judgment Day.” They attempted to set up a larger story, but nobody cared about that story anymore.

Then, “Terminator: Dark Fate” committed the ultimate sin, in my opinion, when it effectively rendered the first story pointless for the sake of a new one. For me, that ensured that this would be the first Terminator sequel I didn’t see in the theaters. I doubt I’ll even see it when it comes out on cable. What this movie did to John Connors and the over-arching narrative of the franchise just cannot be overlooked.

It’s so bad that I won’t even bother with a spoiler warning. “Terminator: Dark Fate” kills John within the first two minutes of the movie. In one cold, callous sequence, this character who fought so hard with his mother to save the future is rendered pointless. The only difference he made is that the name of the future robot overlords changed. Instead of Skynet, they got Legion. That’s it.

Not Pictured: Anything remotely appealing.

It would be akin to having Thanos come back to life, murder the Avengers, and wipe out half the life in the universe all over again in the first movie after “Avengers: Endgame.” Everything and everyone they fought to save is rendered pointless. Then, that same movie tries to tell a story about a new savior who nobody has any attachment to and will always be defined by being John’s replacement.

There’s nothing about that story that has any appeal, either to a fan of the Terminator franchise or any franchise, for that matter. On top of that, “Terminator: Dark Fate” went heavy on mixing gender politics with the movie. That’s not just an indirect interpretation. The director, Tim Miller, flat out admitted it in interviews before the movie came out.

I don’t want to get too caught up in that aspect of the movie, but I do think it was a contributing factor to the movie’s shortcomings. We’ve seen it happen with other movies before. When a movie is too focused on enduring its female characters pass the Bechdel Test, it rarely puts enough effort into making them likable or endearing. It also obscures the overall plot by making it predictable.

There are many other flaws to highlight in “Terminator: Dark Fate,” as well as plenty more in the movies that came before it. Rather than belabor those, I want to focus on how this franchise rebuilds itself from here. The failures of the sequels have damaged it significantly. There’s no amount of time travel or retroactive changes that can save the story that “Terminator: Dark Fate” tried to set up.

That said, this franchise does have a few things going for it. It’s a known brand that people recognize. When most people hear the word “Terminator,” they usually understand it as a reference to the movies. Even if it’s not as strong a brand as it used to be, it still carries weight and sometimes, that’s all it needs.

The first step to rebuilding it involves ending the futile efforts to build, expand, or somehow improve on the story of Sarah and John Connor. Their story ended perfectly in “Terminator 2: Judgment Day.” Most Terminator fans agree with that and anything that would somehow undermine their legacy is only going to cause more damage.

The next step is to start a new timeline, but one that doesn’t focus on saving the future leader of the resistance or ensuring that Judgement Day occurs. That story has been done to death. For Terminator to succeed, it needs to show that it can do more. In fact, I believe “Terminator: Dark Fate” actually has one sub-plot that might be the key to the franchise’s renewal and survival.

In that movie, the Terminator that killed John, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger, secretly built a human life for itself after its mission was completed. It walked around as a human, met a woman with a son from a previous marriage, and formed a family. If the movie had any plot worthy of intrigue, it was this. Sadly, it was poorly developed and mostly rendered pointless by the end.

It’s a concept that might resonate more today than it could have in 1984. When the first Terminator movie came out, machines and robots weren’t that smart. They were defined by how inhuman, cold, and calculating they were. In recent years, that has changed. Movies like “Ex Machina” and “Wall-E” have built compelling stories about robots that have human traits, including emotions.

It’s something that the Terminator franchise has flirted with before. Part of what made the ending of “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” so dramatic and impactful was the emotional attachment that John developed for the T-800. Even the T-800 showed signs that he’d formed a bond. It made that final sacrifice feel so powerful.

Even “Terminator: Genysis” explored the idea. It had another T-800 form a fatherly bond with a young Sarah Connor, so much so that she called him Pops. While the movie didn’t flesh out the concept as much as it could’ve, there were moments that highlighted the extent of this bond. I strongly believed that if this movie had emphasized this concept over making John Connor evil, it would’ve succeeded.

Rather than hint or imply it, I believe a future Terminator movie should go all in on this idea of a killing machine developing emotional attachments to humans. It’s something that is more relevant today than it was in 1984 or 1991. We already interact more intimately with technology and we’ve even given our technology a personality. I say that’s a story that the Terminator can build upon.

Imagine the following scenario.

It’s the distant future. Machines have taken over. Humanity has been all but enslaved. There are only pockets of resistance. To combat this, the central machine intelligence, Skynet, creates Terminators with the sole purpose of killing the remaining humans.

However, humans prove crafty. They outwit and outsmart the early models. In order to become better killers, new Terminators are created that can mimic, study, and process emotions. Ideally, it could infiltrate human resistance camps, earn their trust, and terminate them appropriately. They would be the ultimate killers.

Unfortunately, there’s not enough data. Humans are too scattered, weak, and desperate. Skynet doesn’t have enough data to give these new Terminators the capabilities it needs. It calculates that it would take too long and require too many resources to compile the data in the present. As a result, it decides to send a model back in time before machines took over.

The model’s mission is simple. It must integrate into human society, compile data, preserve it, and transmit it back to Skynet by preserving it within disks. If it’s identity as a machine is uncovered by a human, its primary protocol is to terminate the human.

The first model is sent back. It arrives in a bustling city that would one day be reduced to ruin. It finds clothes, has an identity, and begins integration. However, just as it’s starting to establish itself, a human finds out it’s a machine. Its protocols are activated, but then something unexpected happens. It doesn’t terminate the human.

Instead of fear, the human develops intrigue. It connects with the Terminator. They start to form a bond. Eventually, the Terminator’s systems for mimicking emotions turn into real emotions. It develops a love for humanity and decides to defy Skynet. That decision ripples into the future and Skynet tries to send other Terminators back to destroy it.

As a Terminator fan, I would love to see a movie like this. It could work with a male or female Terminator. It could also work with a male or female protagonist. Like the T-800 in “Terminator: Dark Fate,” it could even become part of a family, giving it something to fight for and protect. Instead of fighting to protect a savior, the Terminator fights to change the fate of both itself and humanity.

This is just my idea, though. I’d love to hear with other Terminator fans think. I’d also love to hear how they would revitalize this franchise. I believe there is room for this franchise in the current cultural landscape. As machines and advanced artificial intelligence continue to progress, I suspect it’ll become even more relevant.

Like Sarah Connor once said, there is no fate, but what we make for ourselves. That applies to our future as a species. It also applies to this franchise.

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Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: Deadpool #1

Sometimes, the right job finds you before you find it. I would even argue that’s how most people find the right job. Only a select few of us are born with the natural talent and the right opportunities to do what we love. Unless your name is Tom Brady, Elon Musk, or Taylor Swift, you usually end up in a job you don’t expect, but still embrace.

Take that premise to an absurd, vulgar, and violent extreme, and you basically get the life of Deadpool in a nutshell. As a kid, I doubt Wade Wilson thought he would grow up to be a wise-cracking, fourth-wall-breaking, sharp-shooting mercenary who frequently teams up with time travelers played by Josh Brolin. Then again, is it really less absurd than wanting to be an astronaut?

Deadpool, for all his insane antics and violent tendencies, often finds himself in in unexpected roles, but they’re usually roles that makes the most of his talents. Writer Kelly Thompson and artist Chris Bachalo take that concept, run with it, and inject it with some fresh absurdity in “Deadpool #1” by making him King of the Monsters.

That’s not a ceremonial title, either. That’s a real, actual role in the Marvel Universe and Deadpool essentially stumbles ass-backwards into it. It’s every bit as crazy, fun, and entertaining as it sounds.

Deadpool comics aren’t known for high concepts, cerebral plots, or fanciful world-building. These are comics built on a foundation of gratuitous violence, dirty jokes, and concepts that even a paste-eating fifth-grader can understand. Thompson embraces that style perfectly in “Deadpool #1” and even finds time to work in a few colorful cameos.

The story doesn’t begin with Deadpool making it his lifelong mission to become the new King of the Monsters. He’s not the kind of guy who thinks that far ahead. He’s just another gun-toting mercenary celebrating his birthday with a mailman he kidnapped. Like I said, he tends not to think that far ahead.

He then lands a new mercenary gig that involves traveling to Staten Island to slay someone who goes by the completely unsubtle title, King of the Monsters. The gig pays well and up front so Deadpool isn’t inclined to ask too many questions. There is a more detailed lore about who the King of the Monsters is and why they’ve set up shop in Staten Island of all places, but none of that matters to Deadpool

What matters is that it puts him in a position to inflict a little rampant destruction on a hideous, Lovecraftian monster that is beautifully rendered by Bachalo’s art. It’s simple. It’s fun. It’s everything you want a quality Deadpool comic to be.

Deadpool #1” checks all those necessary boxes, but it doesn’t stop at the basics. Thompson throws in a few bonuses as well, including appearances from Elsa Bloodstone and Gwenpool. While Elsa’s appearance is a bit more pragmatic, being that she’s Marvel’s premier monster hunter, Gwenpool just adds a little extra entertainment value.

Plus, she brings a baby shark with her. Yes, this comic has a baby shark in it too.

What other comic besides a Deadpool comic would that both work and make perfect sense? I challenge anyone to find one.

Even with those cameos and the quirky details, “Deadpool #1” still has a coherent plot. Deadpool becoming King of the Monsters is just part of it. Even if he didn’t set out to achieve that title at first, it’s not something he just shrugs off. He now finds himself in this strange new role that comes with responsibilities, crowns, and minions. He’s going to try and have a little fun with it. That’s just how Deadpool approaches things.

It ensures his story rarely has a larger, over-arching theme. Deadpool is not the kind of character who can carry an epic, Lord of the Rings level quest on his own. He just doesn’t have the necessary attention span. He just takes random jobs, follows them to whatever messy outcome they inspire, and takes it from there. The fact it includes so much R-rated entertainment along the way is just a nice bonus.

Deadpool #1” doesn’t reinvent the character or how his comics are crafted. Thompson and Bachalo stick to the basics, but still find a way to mix in some extras. Some of those extras even lend themselves to bigger stories that promise even more absurdities, some of which will require more monsters and more explosions. It’s every bit as appealing as it sounds.

It even makes the case that Deadpool is uniquely qualified for his new role as King of the Monsters. While he’s not a monster and is hardly qualified to be king of anything not associated with a Bea Arthur fan club, he knows how to handle himself around monsters. He knows how to slay them and get along with them. Isn’t that a prerequisite for any king?

Being so immature and unbalanced, Deadpool is uniquely suited to his new title. He may still be a mercenary at heart, but he now finds himself in an unexpected role that fully complements some of his most eccentric traits. It’s a fertile foundation on which to build Deadpool’s story. With monsters, violence, and baby sharks, I’d say Deadpool’s new reign is off to a promising start.

With that, I say all hail the new King of the Monsters!

 

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Daily Sexy Musings: To Stun (Or Be Stunned By) Your Lover

Young man covering the eyes of an happy surprised girlfriend

There’s a moment in every cheesy romance movie when two characters stand together, look at each other with the utmost intensity, and are utterly overwhelmed. It’s usually not the culmination of a love story. It’s often a catalyst or a turning point. It can be beautiful, but it can also be horribly clichéd. Depending on its impact, it can make or break the story.

In movies like “Crazy/Beautiful” and “The Notebook,” it works. In other movies, like “Summer Catch” or “Good Luck Chuck,” it fails on every level. Having watched more romance movies than any straight man will ever admit, I can tell when that moment carries real emotional weight and when it’s overly forced. It can make or break a love story.

That moment isn’t just a product of cinema. It reflects powerful feelings that we have in real life. For those of us who are or have been in love, we remember that moment when our lover stunned us with their presence. It’s a moment that tends to leave a powerful impression. No matter how the relationship pans out, you remember that moment. You even cherish it on some level.

We want to present our best selves to our lovers. We want to show them and the world around us just how great we can be. It often takes work, planning, and even a little luck. It’s definitely worth doing. I hope this Daily Sexy Musing inspires you to do it in whatever way makes that moment special for you and your lover. Enjoy!

We’ve had time to prepare. Everything is set. I’ve planned everything down to the second. Every reservation, location, and accommodation are in place. I put on my best attire, wanting and knowing that you deserve my best self. Not a single flaw will be visible. The image I present will be one you lock away as a treasured memory. It all seems so perfect.

Then, you open the door and I see you.

Suddenly, my idea of perfection takes on a whole new level.

I am utterly shocked in the best possible way. In that moment, time stops. I can hardly breath, but I’ve never felt more alive. My heart beats faster, my skin gets hotter, and every fiber of my being is now channeled onto you. There’s no doubt in my mind. You had plans too and yours was better.

I walk up to you, making sure it’s not a dream.

I touch your face, if only to feel real beauty in my hands.

I smile at you, letting you know that you’ve brightened my world.

I try to put into words how I feel, knowing it’s utterly impossible.

Together, we stand in this moment, unbound by time and place. We can already feel a treasured memory being forged, etching itself in our minds and hearts. When we draw our last breaths, this will be among those moments that cross our minds, reminding us of our most joyous moments. That’s in the distant future. This is now.

As I hold you and you hold me, we marvel in one another’s awe. I’ve admired your beauty before. I know you’ve admired mine just as much. It comes in many forms, forged and framed in many diverse circumstances. This one is special.

You know it.

I know it.

Together, we embrace it.

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Answering (And Understanding) Where The “Good” Men Have Gone

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Human beings are social creatures. We’re biologically wired to pursue social and emotional bonds. It’s one of the most fundamental traits for being human. Being a fan of romance, I certainly appreciate it. For that same reason, though, I think it’s telling when people encounter barriers in seeking those bonds.

In recent years, one particular question has been asked any number of ways. It’s often asked in many different contexts, which in turn inspires many different answers. The implications are still the same.

Where have all the “good” men gone?

Now, I put “good” in quotation marks for a reason. I hope that reason becomes apparent soon enough because adding that qualifier to the question frames it as a blanket statement about an entire gender. As a man, who sees himself as “good” by most standards, I feel I have a personal stake in addressing this question. However, I suspect the answers I provide won’t go over well with certain women and even a few men.

Before I answer, it’s important to add a specific context to what makes a man “good.” When the question is often asked, it’s often done from the perspective of women seeking men for marriage. We no longer live in an era where women have their spouses chosen for them or must seek marriage as a means of survival. Despite what some regressive individuals may say, I believe that’s an objectively good thing.

The complications arise when we start to establish the criteria of what makes a “good” man worthy of marriage. Most people, regardless of gender, understand there’s a difference between the person you hook up with and the one you marry. Ideally, this is a person you want to share your life with, for better or for worse. This is someone you genuinely love and go out of your way for.

The primary reason why this question is being asked, namely by women seeking a male spouse, is because they’re having an increasingly difficult time finding someone who meets that criteria. It shows in the data. According to Pew Research, about half of the adult population in America is married, which marks significant decline compared to what it was 50 years ago.

There are many theories as to why this is occurring, some more offensively absurd than others. Even the not-so-absurd theories have become mired in gender politics, which has a tendency to denigrate everyone in the grand scheme of things. I certainly have mine and I don’t think the answers are simple. Every person is different. People are complicated, in general, and so are the societies they live in.

However, this question about “good” men frames the issue a problem ascribed to men. It implies that the issue has nothing to do with a the overall desire to seek long-term romantic bonds. Like I said before, humans are emotional creatures wired to seek romantic bonds. The problem is that the men worthy of such bonds just aren’t there anymore. That’s why women are asking the question to begin with.

As a man, who hopes to one day find someone to marry and love with all my heart, I can offer my take on the answer. Simply put, those good men exist. They’re just not where you’re looking to find them. Even if you are, you might not even realize that those men are good because you don’t give them a chance.

Now, I understand that answer is basic and simplistic. It’s the sentiment of one person who just happens to contemplate romance than most straight men are likely to admit. Everyone’s situation is different, but there is a bigger forest to see and my opinion is only one of those trees. To see that forest, it’s necessary to understand the question better.

Thankfully, there has been research done on this topic. According to a study done in the Journal of Marriage and Family, a major factor driving this question could be a combination of demographics and math. To understand how, this is how they compiled the data.

Focusing their analyses on single heterosexual women, the researchers used data from the American Community Survey (2008-2012; 2013-2017) to predict the likely characteristics of these women’s husbands if they had husbands and then compared those characteristics to what’s actually available in these single women’s dating pool. More specifically, the researchers generated “synthetic spouses” for the single women in their sample by first matching them with demographically similar women (e.g., same race, education, military status, income) who happened to be married. The “synthetic spouses” were designed to reflect the characteristics of the husbands of the similar-married women. Thus, assuming women of similar demographics are looking for similar characteristics in their partners, this method offers a starting point for documenting the characteristics single women might be looking for in a partner.

The long and short of it is simple. The women in the study had criteria for the kind of man they want to marry. However, when that criteria was applied to the male population, there was a significant disparity. Over half the male population was eliminated on the basis of income alone. Essentially, the supply of men who meet this standard for marriage is not sufficient to meet demand.

That’s not to say that it’s the fault of women for having standards that are too high, although I know some have made that argument. While I agree that there are some women who make wholly unreasonable expectations of men, I think they’re the minority. I would argue those changing standards have less to do with gender politics and more to do social and economic factors.

Both women and men are able to be more independent today than they were 50 to 100 years ago. A basic consequence of independence is that you can afford to elevate your standards. When you have the money, time, and resources, you’re less likely to settle for less. It’s the same reason why you willingly pay extra for a better phone or faster internet if you have the means.

A much bigger factor, in my opinion, has to do with the economics and imbalances in marriage. Over the past several decades, the wealth gap has grown and the ability to make a comfortable living, which the women in the study prioritize, is getting considerably difficult. For a man, especially if he doesn’t have a college degree, it’s getting harder and harder to meet those criteria.

At the same time, the investment in relationships has only grown. It’s no longer enough to be a steady, dependable partner. Along with our newfound independence, men and women alike seek something greater from their spouse. That something often requires money, time, and resources. Between student loan debt and the rising cost of living, those assets have become increasingly scarce.

On top of that, the price of failure has gone up considerably as well. While both parties suffer significant loss when a relationship or marriage fails, men tend to take a bigger hit from a material standpoint. Between alimony laws and child custody, men stand to lose a lot if they don’t measure up to the woman’s ideals of a good spouse.

None of this even attempts to factor in the effects of other trends in gender politics, such as the anti-harassment movement. The criteria for a “good” man doesn’t even matter if it becomes overly difficult to be intimate with someone without fear of being accused of something. Even without such complications, the underlying question still evokes troubling answers.

Those answers still aren’t complete. There are still going to be women out there who cannot find a suitable partner for reasons beyond her control. There will also be genuinely good men out there who struggle just as much to find a partner of their own. As a romantic, I believe love does inspire people to make these connections, even when we insist on making it more difficult.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Frisky Gestures Edition

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There are all sorts of gestures we use to convey love, lust, and everything in between. Sometimes, it’s a simple kiss on the cheek. Other times, it’s more elaborate. You break out the candles, put rose petals on the bed, and play every Barry White song ever made. Both help communicate our romantic sentiments. Some just require more planning than others.

In between those two elaborate gestures, though, is something that’s more subtle, but more impactful. You tend to see it a lot with newlyweds or couples who have just fallen in love. They get a little frisky with one another, often in stealthy ways that they try to hide. They don’t always try very hard, but it sends the same message.

Whether it’s slipping your hand into your lover’s back pocket or copping a feel in public, it’s a powerful display. Not everyone appreciates it, but as someone who once dated a girl who enjoyed public friskiness more than most, I find it uniquely endearing. It’s not overly elaborate, but it’s not overly bland either. A frisky gesture is definitely more meaningful than a peck on the cheek.

Whenever I meet the love of my life, I hope she enjoys those frisky gestures as much as I do. I don’t mind letting the public know that I love someone. I hope my future wife feels the same. Whether you just met someone or have been married for several decades, I hope there’s always room for those frisky gestures. Perhaps this round of Sexy Sunday Thoughts will help inspire a few. Enjoy!


“Trying to pee with morning wood is like trying to sleep while on a cocaine bender.”


“For men, it’s very likely that a blowjob is historically the most popular gift of all time.”


“Wherever there are horny people and free time, porn is an inevitability.”


“The quality of lovemaking is directly proportional to the amount of profanity it evokes.”


“Are procrastinators who suffer from premature ejaculation hypocrites by default?”


“Pragmatically speaking, a slut has to be good at multitasking to a certain extent.”


“Drunk sex is like drunk driving in that it can be done, but tends to incur danger, damage, and plenty of long term regret.”


Regardless of how you feel about public displays of affection, it never hurts to remind your lover how much you still love them. A frisky gesture is just one of many ways to get that point across. It can be as tactful or overt as you want it to be. Just be careful about doing it during holiday dinners. There is such a thing as being too frisky in certain circumstances.

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“Fun And Games” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story about fun, games, and thrill sex. That’s a potent combination, if ever there was one. It’s not based on a true story or anything, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some especially adventurous lovers have tried something like this at some point. If you haven’t, then maybe this will inspire you. Enjoy!

For some people, marrying the love of their life and settling down meant the same thing. They’d had their fun. They’d gone on all their wild intimate adventures. Now, they needed to slow things down, build a life together, and settle for a more stable kind of intimacy.

For Jaylan Peppers and the love of his life, Helena Baylee-Peppers, that kind of mundane marriage just wasn’t going to work for them. He knew he’d bucked the trend when he asked Helena to marry him just a couple years after high school. His friends thought he was crazy, passing up his time a young 20-something bachelor. If they had known how he and Helena chose to approach their marriage, they’d have told him he should’ve proposed earlier.

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Helena,” said Daisy Roth, her mother’s best friend and a woman of considerable influence. “This fundraiser is another success that puts others like it to shame.”

“You know me, Mrs. Roth. I like to raise the bar whenever I can,” Helena replied, sounding as professional as ever.

“Please, call me Daisy,” the older woman said. “You’ve more than earned that right. Keep raising the bar and you’ll be on my husband’s short list for the Christmas party this year!”

“I appreciate that, but he may have to get in line. Jefferson Omar is already trying to work me into his holiday plans and he’s not alone.”

“Then, he’d better brace himself because he knows I have deeper pockets and better connections!”

The two women laughed. Daisy then hugged Helena with an enthusiasm that Jaylan had come to expect. His wife had a profound effect on people. She was just that charismatic, but even her best clients only knew part of what made her amazing.

The same could be said for everyone else at the Merit Hall Fundraiser, by far the biggest social event of the summer. It was where the biggest companies in urban development met with planners from the state to rub elbows, make deals, and secure partnerships. Helena, being an event planner for her father’s entertainment company, had spent the past several years establishing herself as the woman they wanted to organize such events. Time and again, she delivered.

Jaylan did his part to help. He worked the human resources department at a prominent company that his best friend’s family had started. While Helena was the beautiful face and the visionary force behind every spectacle, he helped provide the logistics. It didn’t just help him grow in his career, although that was a nice bonus. It also gave him a front-row seat whenever the woman he loved worked her magic.

No matter what event she attended, Helena found a way to steal the show. On top of being drop-dead beautiful by almost every objective measure, she often wore stunning attire, which she got custom-made by her fashion-savvy sister. At an event where most of the women were in pantsuits and sheath dresses, Helena wore a low-cut skirt that perfectly hugged her hips and an embroidered blouse that prominently showed off her ample breasts. More than one man at the event expressed his appreciation.

It was so sexy, but not at all trashy. Helena always carried herself with an elegance that perfectly complemented her beauty. She was someone that a man wanted to kiss, respect, sleep with, and marry, albeit not necessarily in that order.

“Do you ever get tired of having people wrapped around your finger?” Jaylan asked her as he stood by her side, his arm casually draped around her waist.

“How can I get tired of it when it’s so useful?” she said, casting him a curt grin. “It makes my job so much easier. It also makes for great bonuses…such as a three-night, all-expenses-paid stay at Wilbert Rossdale’s luxury resort next weekend.”

“Trust me. I haven’t forgotten about that,” Jaylan said with a wide grin. “I’ve already packed my bags.”

“Well, don’t pack too much. That resort is known for being remote, private, and very accommodating to certain adult activities.”

Her voice quickly took on a deeper, more sensual undertone. She also leaned in closer, clinging to his arm and casting him that loving gaze that always made his heart skip a beat. On top of that, she’d left the top button of her blouse undone, exposing not-insignificant part of her cleavage. It made his heart beat even faster while also diverging the flow blood towards his lower body.

“You know, sometimes you’re almost too charismatic,” said Jaylan.

“Almost,” Helena quipped playfully.

“You work so hard to be this good at your job, but you work just as hard to have fun and enjoy the fruits of your labor. It’s nothing short of amazing!”

“Don’t give me too much credit, my love. None of this would be possible if you didn’t do your part as well. Even before we got together, you took my wild ideas and made them real.”

“They weren’t wild. Just challenging,” he pointed out.

“And your humility about it never fails to turn me on,” Helena said, her sexy undertone intensifying.

She was really testing his ability to maintain his poise during a crowded fundraiser. As Jaylan looked out over the crowd, smiling at the guests as they enjoyed the festivities she’d helped organize, he felt her hand slip into his back pocket. At first, it was just playful affection. Then, she gave his butt a firm squeeze and suddenly, everything got more serious.

He shifted briefly, trying to hide his reaction as a couple of prominent clients from the state walked by and showed their gratitude. He must have looked half-drunk from all the complementary champagne. However, the only intoxication he felt came courtesy of Helena’s unique approach to sexiness. The way she incorporated it into their love life ensured that even a professional environment couldn’t contain their passion.

“You’re not the first one to compliment my capabilities,” Helena said, still squeezing his butt.

“We’re still talking about your job, right?” Jaylan said with a half-grin.

“Since I was a kid, I always strived to be extra passionate about the things I do,” she went on. “Whether it’s planning big events or the karaoke contest I signed up for in middle school, I try to go the extra mile.”

“And it pays off. You won that contest, if I recall,” he noted.

“And big reason why is I had fun with it. Yes, it was hard work, but I found ways to really enjoy the process, every step of the way. It’s something my mother, rest her soul, taught me while watching my father toil at his company all these years. If you’re going to put effort into anything, then don’t just treat it like work. Make it a game! Dare to be daring!”

“Your mother was a wise woman,” said Jaylan.

“She also knew how to remind my dad that it’s okay to have fun,” Helena said, now whispering into her ear. “It’s even okay to be a little naughty, from time to time.”

There was nothing subtle about her words or the tone she used to say them. Even if she weren’t squeezing his butt repeatedly through his overpriced dress pants, Jaylan knew what she was trying to do. It once again reminded him of the kind of woman he married.

Helena worked hard at everything she did and looked great doing it every step of the way. However, one of her most endearing – and her kinkiest, for that matter – was how she squeezed in some fun along the way. She wasn’t just the kind of woman who would sneak in a kiss or two if their paths crossed during a planning session. Helena was the kind of woman who would take her lover by the arm, lead him into the nearest utility closet, and give him oral sex in the middle of a lunch break.

She enjoyed mixing work and play, which was part of how she commanded such dedication and loyalty from everyone around her. However, she loved mixing a little extra passion whenever she could. Helena did not believe that such moments should be reserved for vacations, getaways, or date nights. If she was going to express her love for someone, then she was going to do it on her terms.

Few men could handle that kind of passion. He was among the elite few and among those few, he’d been the only one to capture Helena’s heart to the point where she agreed to marry him and during a conference in Dayton, no less. That passion helped turn him from just some other guy doing logistics to someone who effected real change in the world. It was more than enough to make him want Helena in ways that went beyond their wedding vows.

“Are you sure about your timing?” Jaylan asked under his breath, still standing with her as though they were just another couple. “They just finished serving dinner. It won’t be long before people start making speeches. And trust me, they’re going to lavishly praise you.”

“I know,” she said curtly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll have time. And if you doubt my confidence, then maybe this will convince you.”

She had him in the palm of her hand and she took full advantage of it. While Jaylan kept trying to maintain his demeanor amidst the crowd, his charismatic wife latched onto his arm and guided his hand behind her back. From there, he directed him down her back and over her shapely butt. His heart raced faster and his mouth went dry, the feeling of her feminine curves adding fuel to the passion she’d so skillfully inspired.

Just when it seemed the teasing got excessive, he felt something else through the soft fabric of his love’s tight-fitting skirt. At first, he thought he was just fantasizing. Then, he remembered that fantasy and reality often blurred around his playful wife.

“Helena…are you not wearing any panties beneath that skirt?” Jaylan asked, as though it were a standard inquiry.

“Hmm,” she said, pretending to think about it, “you know, I might have ditched them an hour ago when I ran out to my car to pick up a file…or I just didn’t bother with panties in the first place. After all, they just get in they way of our little fun.”

As if to remove all level of doubt, she tactfully directed his hand up her skirt. His suspicions were quickly confirmed. Helena, despite standing in a crowded room during a high-end fundraiser, wasn’t wearing any panties. He could feel the exposed features of her womanhood with his hand. On top of that, he sensed she was very wet. Hard work and successful results had a way of turning her on like that.

At that moment, Jaylan stopped trying to make sense of his wife’s playful personality. She’d worked hard and so had he. They’d accomplished great things tonight. Now, in the midst of all their hard work, he was going to make love to her.

“There’s a service elevator that goes right to the second level of the parking garage,” he whispered to her in his manliest voice. “It’s closed off. Nobody will be down there until the night is over.”

“Then, that’s where we better be in the next five minutes!” Helena replied.

“Does that mean we’re making this another one of our games?”

“Babe, the game started before my panties came off!”

It didn’t matter that they were both working. They had an opportunity for some sexy games and they were going to take advantage of it. Jaylan learned early in their relationship that Helena enjoyed balancing work with fun. It was a game to her and one that few could keep up with. Once again, he was among the few.

The game was on and he made the first move. After promptly removing his hand from under her dress, he latched onto his wife’s arm and led her away from the north corner where they’d been lingering. There were still dozens of wealthy, influential people moving about, congregating around the buffet tables to get one last helping for dinner. He and Helena were hungry too, but not for food.

“Excuse me. Pardon us,” Jaylan said as they navigated the northwest hall. “We have a serious matter to tend to.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Peppers,” greeted Michael Dwyer, a prominent businessman who knew them well, “what’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Michael!” Helena assured. “Something just came up, but don’t worry! My husband will help me take care of it.”

He didn’t get a chance to ask for details. He and Helena had already cleared most of the crowd. Some still turned to greet them, but as far as they knew, there was nothing major going on. For all they knew, they were just heading outside to take an important phone call. They had no idea what kind of games he and Helena were about to play.

After passing by the restrooms, they slipped through utility door and down a vacant hallway. They could still hear the noise from the fundraiser through the thick walls, but with each step they took, it got fainter and quieter. As they neared the utility elevator, Helena grew bolder, latching onto his arm and pawing his chest through his dress shirt.

“I’m so hot for you right now,” she said intently. “We haven’t had sex in too long.”

“Helena…we had sex in the shower two days ago,” Jaylan reminded her.

“I stand by my statement.”

She leaned in again and kissed down his clean-shaven neck, giving his earlobes a slight nibble along the way. She knew how much that drove him wild. Already, his pants felt uncomfortably tight. He embraced her closer, trailing his hand up her hips, enchanted by the idea that only a thin skirt separated his skin from hers.

“The elevator!” Jaylan said with more urgency.

With his love still all over him, they practically sprinted to the elevator. He pushed the button at least a dozen times, urging the machinery to work faster. As soon as the door opened, she practically shoved him inside. From there, it only got hotter.

“Going down?” he said.

“Love your choice of words, babe!” Helena quipped.

That sexy glint in her eyes only got more pronounced as the doors closed behind her and the noise from the fundraiser completely disappeared. Now finally in an enclosed area, she stepped up her passionate gestures, kissing him hungrily on the lips while undoing his belt. He returned the feeling every step of the way, twirling his tongue with hers as he hungrily gripped her thighs and skillfully snaked his hands up her skirt.

She was even hotter than she claimed. He could feel the moist heat radiating between her legs, her exposed womanhood emanating with unspoken desire. She craved his intimate touch every bit as much as he craved hers. After loosening his belt and pants, she further stoked that craving, reaching into his pants and feeling his member swell rapidly under her touch.

“So big and hard,” Helena purred. “You really want me, don’t you?”

“Yes, my sexy…adventurous wife,” he said without hesitation. “I want you so bad.”

“We’ve both worked so hard and achieved so much this week,” she noted. “What we want…we’ve earned!”

Shortly after saying those words, the elevator stopped at the second level parking garage. Almost immediately, they slipped out into the dark, dingy area. Just as Jaylan hoped, it was empty. There were a bunch of empty crates and hauling gear, which had been used by his staff to set up all the tables. With so much going on in the main ballroom, they had all the privacy they needed to enjoy their well-earned fun.

“Over here!” Jaylan said, guiding her to a small nook near the locked gate.

“Dark, secluded, and bold…now I’m really glad I ditched the panties!” said Helena.

Their brief journey ended. Jaylan and his love arrived at the dingy, concrete wall next to the gate. From there, stronger passions took hold.

Helena made the first move, grabbing him by the shoulders and kissing him hard on the lips, further affirming the extent of her desire. As he tasted her luscious lips, she pinned him back against the wall, pushed his pants down to his ankles, and dropped to her knees where she came face-to-face with his semi-hard dick.

“Looks like you should’ve ditched the briefs today,” Helena teased as she gripped the base of his shaft.

“Hindsight can be…uncomfortable,” Jaylan said.

“Guess it pays to be proactive. Allow me to demonstrate!”

She stepped up her game and, without a doubt, she was ahead. Like the adventurous, sexy woman he married, she hungrily engulfed his member with her lips and tongue. She then proceeded to give him the kind of intense, urgent oral sex she knew he loved. At the same time, she used her lack of panties to her advantage, fingering her pussy every step of the way.

“Damn, Helena!” Jaylan grunted under the weight of such feeling and spectacle. “You are one…cunning…minx!”

She flashed him a seductive grin, as if to reinforce that she was winning in their sexy game. He had a lot of catching up to do, but for the moment, he just enjoyed the fruits of her blowjob skills.

She was hard and fast with her efforts, sending shivers of bliss coursing up through his body. Jaylan leaned back against the wall, his legs turning to jelly under the weight of the feeling. However, he didn’t once lose focus. He maintained his passionate gaze on his sexy wife, making it clear to her that he intended to play her game as well. It was just a matter of making the right move at the right time.

That time arrived quickly. Helena’s oral sex skills did the trick, getting him fully aroused and very hard, despite the dingy surroundings. Knowing she was still very moist and was perfectly capable of bringing herself to orgasm on her own, Jaylan decided to take the initiative.

“Helena…my darling?” he asked in a coaxing tone as he caressed the side of her head.

“Mmm…yes, my love?” Helena replied after giving his member one last thorough lick.

“Now, it’s my turn!”

With the same initiative that made him so good at managing logsitics, he took his lover by the arms and pulled her back into a standing position. He then turned her around and pinned her up against the stone wall, her back slightly bent so that her heart-shaped butt was pointed right against them.

She offered no resistance. She even squealed in delight, wiggling her hips a little, as if to invite him to enter her world. He gladly accepted, pushing up her skirt to reveal her exposed butt and pussy. He even licked his fingers and rubbed her folds a bit, just to make sure she was still wet. He could feel the sensual eagerness in her body.

“Jaylan…please!” she begged him with a pleading look in her eye.

Jaylan grinned triumphantly. Now, he was winning the game and he intended to widen his lead. Positioning himself behind his horny wife, he aligned his rigid manhood with her moist entrance. Just before he entered her, though, he leaned over and whispered into her ear.

“It’s on!” he said.

At that moment, Jaylan thrust his hips forward and entered her. They both let out deep gasps that filled the darkened area. The hot sensations of their intimate union flowed between them. Warm feminine depths embraced hard male flesh. Together, they absorbed the feeling, but Jaylan made sure he set the tone.

“Helena…ohh Helena! Ohhh you’re so hot!” he moaned out.

“Yes! Oh yes! Do it to me, my love! Do it!” Helena urged.

Encouraged and impassioned, Jaylan established a vigorous sexual rhythm, working his hips and rocking their bodies in an intimate harmony. It was more heated than usual. Doing it outside a bedroom often required a sense of urgency. Doing it in the middle of a major work event added even more, but that only raised the stakes of their sexy games.

Helena never failed to play her part. As their bodies rocked, she leaned up against the wall harder, turning her head and drawing him into an intimate kiss as they humped. Not one to fall behind, Jaylan threw in some tricks of his own, reaching around and undoing the top part of her blouse so that her ample breasts popped free. The feeling of those fleshy mounds in both hands as he fucked her further added to the feeling.

“Mmm…like that, my love? You want it like that?” Jaylan said with his manliest grunts.

“Yes! Just like that!” she exclaimed. “Keep doing it…and you might just make me come!”

“Might, you say?”

Taking that as a challenge, Jaylan made another move, releasing one hand from her swaying breasts and reaching between her legs to fondle her clitoris. It was his way of pulling out all the stops, showing that he could still please his love, even when she tried to get the jump on him. If her reaction were any indication, he got the point across.

“Ohhh Jaylan!” she cried out.

It was music to his ears. It didn’t matter that it echoed throughout the parking garage, their sweaty musk mixing with the dank ambience. If anything, that encouraged them. It was his and Helena’s way of proving that their passion could navigate any environment, no matter the circumstances.

They once again proved the power of that passion. After some skilled stimulation with his fingers, combined with the rapid thrusting of his hips, he had Helena on the brink of orgasm. Jaylan knew his wife well enough to sense the signs. She was always so theatrical when she climaxed. She once said she couldn’t fake an orgasm to save her life. That meant when it came to winning their sexy games, there was little ambiguity.

“Jaylan…my love…you win!” his beautiful wife finally gasped.

With that proclamation, the sexy, fun-loving woman he’d so eagerly married achieved orgasm. He felt her inner muscles contract around his manhood, throbbing hard in accord with her sensual release. Jaylan tightened his intimate hold on her, listening to her euphoric cries. Within the darkened garage, they echoed so beautifully. It was like every intimate noise had been amplified. He loved every sweet second of it.

Jaylan gladly let his wife enjoy her orgasm, leaning in closer and kissing her neck through each intimate gasp. He even ceased his thrusting, just enjoying the hot feeling of her womanly flesh around his manhood. He barely realized that he hadn’t climaxed himself. Just listening to Helena’s orgasmic cries was rewarding enough.

However, she certainly hadn’t forgotten. She made that abundantly clear the moment he withdrew from her.

“Jaylan…” she said breathlessly.

“Yes, my love?” Jaylan replied.

“The game’s not over!”

Before he could say another word, his charismatic wife took over once more. She quickly turned around, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pinned him back against the wall, his rigid member still fully erect and now dripping in her feminine juices. Jaylan barely had time to catch his breath or even loosen his dress shirt. That didn’t stop Helena from making her move.

“Now, you’re going to get yours…even if I have to cheat a little!” she said with a mischievous grin.

Again, she didn’t give him time to react. She just dropped to her knees again, removed her blouse and bra completely, and used those large natural breasts of hers to surround his cock in their fleshy warmth. Using the lingering fluid on his dick to her advantage, she started tit-fucking him with the same intensity as he’d fucked her.

“Ooh Helena! That’s…not fair,” said Jaylan through grunts of delight.

“I know,” she said playfully.

Up and down, with little resistance, she worked his member between her breasts. She wasn’t too fast or too rough. She knew just how to draw him to that special threshold from which there was no return. It really was the sexual equivalent of a cheat code because he soon found himself ready to pop his load.

“Helena…I’m about to…come!” he grunted.

“I’m ready, my love,” Helena said eagerly.

The feeling finally hit. When that hot surged shot through him, Jaylan threw his head back and gasped, bumping it right against the concrete in the process. He barely felt that part, though. The ecstasy that followed did plenty to overshadow it.

Like a spark igniting a fire, his orgasmic release consumed him. His manhood still firmly lodged between his breasts, he released a thick load of his fluid. Most of it splattered right on his lover’s chin and cleavage. She even managed to catch some of it in her mouth, another trick she knew turned him on to no end. She also used those breasts of hers to milk him for every last drop, making sure none went to waste. When it came to sexy games, she left nothing to chance.

“Okay…I think it’s a tie, now,” Jaylan said in his orgasmic daze.

“Only a tie?” Helena teased as she licked her lips clean of his fluid.

“For now,” he told her. “Some games…need an intermission.”

His playful wife laughed as she lingered on her knees until his sexual release was complete. Eventually, she returned to her feet, grabbing her discarded blouse and bra in the process. She already looked eager to get back to work, albeit with a glowing demeanor. Jaylan felt he might need a minute or several, if only to get dress and smooth out his shirt.

Helena gave him all the time he needed, even kissing him on the cheek and embracing him until the strength returned to his legs. Even after raucous, sexy games, she was still the same loving woman he married. Not many men could claim they married a woman who was so skilled at mixing work with sexy games. As he pulled up his pants, still smiling ear-to-ear, he thanked whatever higher power there was that he was one of them.

 

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Daily Sexy Musing: Sexy (And Non-Sexy) Snuggling

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In the world of romance, the act of snuggling has a mixed reputation and for good reason. It’s simple. It’s not always sexy. At times, it can be downright bland. It sounds like the kind of weak romantic gestures that your parents or grandparents would do. When you’re intensely in love with someone, it just doesn’t seem sufficient.

While I understand that sentiment, I strongly disagree with the negative connotations that snuggling sometimes gets. It’s not just for parents and couples who just don’t have the energy to make love like horny teenagers anymore. I believe it can be a very romantic and surprisingly intimate aspect of a good love story.

I concede that snuggling is basic. It’s something you can do with your clothes on. You can even do it in public and not get arrested for it. There’s not a whole lot of variation. You can just lean in close to one another, hug each other, or rest your head on their shoulder or chest. It’s rarely that elaborate, but it doesn’t have to be. That’s where the true power of snuggling lies.

It’s one of those things that, if you’re with someone you really love, doesn’t require some grand gesture to get the point across. If you’re at a point in your relationship where you can convey how much you love someone with a simple gesture, then you’ve got yourself a pretty solid romance. It tends to show most prominently in snuggling. That’s why I’m more than happy to make it the subject of a Daily Sexy Musing. Enjoy!

There’s a time for intense moments of passion.

There’s a time for space, solitude, and contemplation.

There’s a time for intensely dramatic exchanges.

This is not one of those times.

Right now, I seek only your loving warmth. My body isn’t cold, but I still shiver. I have a desire to share in our love, but lack the energy to express it in a grand, romantic gesture. What I seek is neither spectacle nor grand. Sometimes, the simplest kind of love is all I need.

I move in closer.

I curl up next to you.

I let the heat of our bodies mix and meld.

Together, we snuggle in a shared moment of contentment. Our bodies touch and our spirits become entwined, but we need not escalate the feeling beyond the raw basics. There’s plenty of warmth, but no burning heat. Every gesture is soft and subtle, but the meaning is still great in scale.

A little warmth hints at fiery passion.

A light touch teases intense desire.

A bit of contentment preludes immense ecstasy.

We both feel it, whether awake or asleep. As we hold one another in ways both slight and strong, our love becomes real. It manifests in a basic, tangible. We can feel it and sense it, the breadth of our love. No words are necessary. A simple touch and a loving glance tells the whole story.

In that tale of love and passion, we’ve already succeeded. We went on a journey and made it to the end. The greatest fruits are there, but appetites aren’t always that great. If making love is a feast, then a simple snuggle is a wondrous treat.

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