The (Unequal) Gender Politics Of Divorce

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There are a handful of words that evoke a special kind of dread. I’m not just talking about racial slurs, crushing insults, or George Carlin’s famous seven dirty words. There’s one word that evokes dread that transcends race, gender, and political affiliation. That word is divorce. I’ll give everyone a moment to stop cringing.

I can personally attest to the impact of that word. I have many close friends, relatives, and family members who have gone through divorce. I’ve seen, first-hand, how devastating it can be to individuals and their family. It can be every bit as devastating on children as well. While there is certainly a benefit for spouses and children who escape an abusive relationship, there can still be lasting scars.

Most people agree that divorce is a pretty traumatic experience. It is very much the antithesis of the love, connection, and intimacy we seek in others. It is against everything I generally write about on this website. However, divorce is a significant part of our society.

At this point, it’s worth pointing out that the old “half of all marriages end in divorce” saying is not in line with the data. According to the National Center for Family and Marriage Research, the divorce rate in 2015 was 16.9 divorces per 1,000 marriages. That actually represents a significant decline since the 1980 when the divorce rate was nearly 23 per 1,000 marriages.

Whatever the rate is, the effects of divorce are still devastating and heartbreaking. Those effects also get lost in a lot of doom-saying surrounding marriage and the state of the family, which is often led by religious zealots and reactionary pundits. Beyond even the tragic and painful stories surrounding divorce, there is another element to it that often goes overlooked.

Unfortunately, it has to do with gender disparities and I’ve learned in the course of writing about this topic, this often brings out some heated debates. I expect that to hold true more than usual on this issue because it’s already so emotionally charged. On top of that, there’s plenty of data to show that when it comes to marriage and divorce, men and women are not on the same page.

The first major indicator of that disparity is shown in who does the proposing. Even in today’s more progressive climate, men are still the ones who propose 90 percent of the time. Despite the many running jokes about men being afraid to commit, they’re still the ones who pop the question. While more and more women are starting to propose, this gap is still significant.

The second indicator, which I’m sure is going to inflame ongoing gender conflicts, has to do with who initiates divorce. According to the National Center for Health Statistics, 80 percent of divorces are initiated by women. Again, that’s not a trivial gap. That implies there’s a major disconnect at work and it’s not getting better, even as more people remain single.

The reasons for women initiating divorce are many. I don’t want to get too deep into them, but there are many conflicting narratives. There are those who see marriage as a tool of patriarchal oppression and divorce is tool of liberation. On the other side are those who claim marriage is just an institutional tool that women use to exploit men for resources with divorce being the oversized sledge hammer.

With the added complication of no fault divorce, alimony laws, and child support, there are more legal mechanisms than ever to rub salt in the wound that is divorce. It’s not enough for a relationship to end and for romance to fade. Involving lawyers and lawmakers adds multiple layers of heartbreak and frustration to the mix.

This is where the gender divide can get especially hostile. On top of the disparity in who proposes and who divorces, there’s also a significant divide in how these laws affect each gender. Even though women have gained much more economic independence over the years, 97 percent of the ex-spouses who receive alimony after a divorce are women.

Add the ease of no-fault divorce into the mix and there’s a painful incentive for women to initiate divorce. If the choice is staying in a boring marriage or leaving with some money without having to prove any wrongdoing, then who could blame someone for taking that option? It’s still heartbreaking and hurtful, but people are going to respond to incentives, regardless of gender.

It certainly hasn’t helped gender relations. Many unabashed misogynists will cite how many women receive alimony and use that to claim that all women are manipulative psychopaths who only see men as a wallet or a sperm bank. Those kinds of generalizations are crude, but when you can cite real-world cases of unapologetic gold digging among women, it’s easy to see where that hatred comes from.

Personally, I don’t believe that hatred is justified. Most men don’t see women with that kind of hostility. In principle, alimony exists to protect women who would otherwise be in poverty after divorce. That is reasonable and well-intentioned. In practice, though, it’s a legal tool that can be abused and further foster hateful attitudes.

The data for who gets primary custody of children is just as striking. According to Census data, 82 percent of mothers get custody after divorce. That same set of data also notes that this stat hasn’t changed much over the past 20 years. That, in my opinion, is the most frustrating aspect of this issue.

Despite all the other changes and trends we’ve seen in recent years with feminism, men’s rights activism, and evolving trends in marriage, there hasn’t been much change in the overall narrative. Even as feminists bemoan patriarchal oppression and men’s rights activities protest gender-driven injustice, the rhetoric rarely translates into meaningful change.

I understand that some relationships are just doomed from the start. I also understand that the nature of romance is changing in accord with culture, society, and law. However, the lack of change in the fundamentals of how we pursue marriage and manage divorce is confusing and even a little infuriating.

Women seek, and have gained, a great deal of rights and protections in pursuing their own path within a more egalitarian society. At the same time, they still hold onto traditions surrounding relationships. They still expect the man to propose and to support her in the event of divorce. I doubt that’s out of malice. This is just what we, as a society, consider normal.

At the same time, men are pursuing their own brand of rights and protections within this society. Issues like father’s rights and reforms to family courts all have a place in pursuing a more equitable system. Even so, men still expect women to play a certain role within a relationship while assuming too much about their own role.

It’s an untenable situation. Society is guiding the genders in one direction while they’re pulling towards another. The old narrative surrounding divorce is just not compatible with the one that’s emerging. The situation today is very different than it was in 1908. Laws, culture, and even the economy are changing the factors that guide divorce. The only thing that doesn’t change is the pain of a broken relationship.

As it stands, men and women both seem to want more equality in the tragic realm of divorce. However, they each seem to have very different ideas of what constitutes “equality.” The narrative, as it stands, is built around men pursuing women and women deciding when that pursuit is over. Anything that deviates from that is seen as abnormal or absurd.

Every relationship is different. Every individual is different. There are probably some women out there who divorce out of blind hatred and there are men who marry women they have no intention of loving for the rest of their lives. There are plenty of vindictive people out there and divorce is a weapon that needs no sharpening.

The late, great Robin Williams once said that “Divorce is like ripping a man’s genitals out through his wallet.”

Feminist, Gloria Steinem, once said “You become a semi-non person when you get married. The surest way to be alone is to get married.”

These attitudes nicely reflect the current gender divide when it comes to divorce. Until that gap is narrowed, the heartbreak and hatred inspired by divorce will only get worse. Men and women have enough reasons to clash with one another. Divorce just makes it worse by giving that animosity legal powers.

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Filed under gender issues, human nature, Marriage and Relationships, men's issues, political correctness, psychology, romance, sexuality, women's issues

Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Sexy Tan Edition

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I love summer. I love going to the beach, eating outside, and hanging out by the pool. The long days, the hot weather, and the lack of precipitation that needs shoveling has always appealed to me. However, there’s one other aspect of summer for which I have mixed feelings and that involves tans.

Now, I’ll be the first to proclaim that I find tans sexy. Whether you’re a man or a woman, having a good tan is a great way to augment your sex appeal. I think that’s beyond dispute. Unfortunately, like any other natural endowment, not everyone can pursue that sex appeal with the same ease.

I’ve tried to get a tan before. It has never worked. I’m one of those guys whose skin doesn’t tan. It burns. Since I was a kid, I never managed to get a tan over the summer. Even when I smothered myself in sunscreen, I only ever ended up with a nasty burn that required a healthy round of Aloe Vera lotion.

It was frustrating, but that didn’t stop me from appreciating the sex appeal of tans. There are some people in my family who just tan naturally, especially around this time of year. They carry themselves with more swagger and rightfully so. They know they look good and will keep enjoying that look for the rest of the summer.

To those people, as well as those like me who still appreciate them, this round of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts is for you. I may be doomed to spend every summer bathing in sunscreen, but those who can get a tan should enjoy it. You don’t know how lucky you are.


“We send mixed messages when we’re so careful about protecting our genitals, yet still refer to them as our junk.”


“Breasts are nature’s way reminding men that they’re easily distracted.”


“The best lovemaking makes a bad day good and a good day great.”


“The difference between having sex and making love is akin to the difference between a home run on opening day and a grand slam in the World Series.”


“The fact that the human ass is inherently dirty and sexy makes it the perfect biological paradox.”


“What exactly was the first couple to have a tickle fight thinking?”


“If a man knows the entire starting lineup of his favorite football team, then he has no excuse for knowing how his lover’s genitals work.”


I hope this gives you some extra motivation while lounging out in the summer sun, working on that perfect bronze tan. If your skin can handle it, I say go for it. Summer is a great time to show off your sex appeal. A good tan is one of the few features that men and women alike can appreciate. It’s just one of the many things that make summer inherently awesome.

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“Taking A Chance” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story about trust, taking chances, and believing that people can be decent and loving, even in sexy moments. I think it’s an important message that’s worth affirming every chance we get. Enjoy!

“Never trust men. They have too many reasons to use you.”

Sharon Kena had heard that mantra from her mother all her life. It was one of the first lessons she’d taught her as a kid and she belabored it every chance she got. It didn’t matter who she met or what she did. The message was always the same.

“Avoid men at every turn. If you can’t, make sure you use them before they use you.”

She said it so often that Sharon hadn’t given it much thought in recent years. She made it through high school without dating any men and none of her current friends were men. Sharon still dealt with them, but even the slightest interaction with a man was enough to draw scrutiny from her mother. At one point, she made a scene at an airport when the flight attendant made her sit next to a middle-aged man on a trip to visit her grandmother.

As mortifying as moments like that were, Sharon understood her mother’s sentiments to some extent. She knew, as well as everyone else in her family, that she had a bad history with men. Her father ditched her when she was a baby, her uncle abused her, and every man she’d ever dated found some way to hurt her.

Sharon’s own father was probably the one that went too far. He’d been so nice to her, treating her mother better than any of the abusive assholes she’d dealt with before. He was older, but claimed to love her. It wasn’t until her mother got pregnant that she found out she was just his mistress. Her father actually had another family across the state, complete with a wife and three kids. His wife apparently let herself go and he just wanted to sleep with a woman under 150 pounds.

Her father had used her mother and essentially abandoned her, even after she was born. Sharon was perfectly fine keeping him out of her life entirely, but he’d left such a deep scar on her mother that she went out of her way to inoculate her from such men. For the most part, she succeeded.

However, there was always that gnawing curiosity in the back of Sharon’s mind. Were all men really that bad? As much as her mother belabored that point, a part of her just couldn’t leave it at that.

“So…you want to come up and see my apartment?” Sharon asked in the most seductive tone she could muster.

“Boy, you sure like to skip ahead, don’t you?” replied the surprised, but intrigued young man in her presence.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Hell yes!” he said with a cocky grin. “For a girl as pretty as you, I’ll skip all the steps you want.”

Sharon replied with a half-hearted laugh. It couldn’t have been that convincing, but Chris Chadwin didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who cared. Why would he? He was about to get laid.

As Sharon latched onto his arm and led him up to her fourth-floor apartment, she could hear her mother’s voice echoing in her head, yelling at her to throw Chris out the nearest window. She was about to do something her mother urged her to avoid at all costs. She was going to willingly have sex with a man she barely knew, didn’t care for, and wasn’t even that attracted to. It was the antithesis of everything she’d been taught, but Sharon had already made her choice.

“I’m taking a chance, for once.”

That was what she’d told herself that afternoon, less than two hours before she accepted Chris’ offer to join him for happy hour at a bar not far from where she lived. It hadn’t been the first time he flirted with her. He wasn’t even the only woman he flirted with. He was just the easiest man to hook up with and that was all Sharon needed.

He was already getting frisky. As they ascended the stairs, he slipped his arms around her waist and playfully kissed her neck. Sharon didn’t care much for neck-kissing, but she appreciated the intimate grasp. The feeling of two powerful arms wrapped around her from behind was surprisingly arousing. It shouldn’t have been, given the influence of her mother, but it was.

“It’s just down the hall,” Sharon told him after ascending the final round of stairs.

“Lead the way, beautiful,” Chris said playfully.

He must have thought he’d charmed her perfectly. He had no idea of her true intentions and she had no plans to tell him. If Chris knew his actions that night might confirm or discredit everything she thought about men, then she wouldn’t be taking a chance.

Sharon chose to hook up with Chris because he was the kind of overly-macho flirt that her mother warned her about. He was a sophomore at the nearby community college who spent his weekends cruising bars, looking for pretty girls to get with. Some of the other girls who worked at the same software company as her had shared sordid stories about their encounters with him. Some showed regret. Most just shrugged him off as an arrogant meathead.

Whatever they thought of Chris, he still had a reputation as a guy who got more women than most. Despite not being exceptionally attractive or accomplished, he somehow managed to convince plenty of women to sleep with him. He never pretended to seek anything romantic, either. He was just a horny guy who wanted to have meaningless sex with pretty girls.

That fact, alone, didn’t surprise her. It was consistent with at least some of what Sharon’s mother warned her about. What still bugged her was the bigger implications.

Did he really just want to use her the same way he’d use a tissue to blow his nose?

Was she just a pair of breasts, a nice set of legs, and a pussy to him?

Did he only care about getting off and ditching her for his next sexual conquest?

Those were just some of the questions that Sharon sought to answer. All her life, she had only her mother’s answers to go on. For once, she wanted to answer those questions for herself. It meant putting herself at risk, but for her own peace of mind, she needed to find them on her own.

“We’re here,” Sharon told him upon arriving at her apartment door.

“Finally!” Chris said, still embracing her from behind. “These pants are getting really tight.”

“I think I can help with that,” she quipped, “so long as you return the favor.”

“Oh, don’t you worry!” he said boldly. “When it comes to ladies and favors, I know how to prioritize.”

His bravado was obnoxious, but the sentiment was endearing. Sharon even managed a genuine smile, if only to give Chris incentive to honor his word.

She could already tell he was plenty motivated. With the way he rubbed up behind her, she could feel the bulge in his pants pressing up against her. He was horny, that much was clear. He wanted sex and he wasn’t afraid to be crude. Sharon was willing to tolerate that, provided he didn’t confirm too many of his mother’s warnings.

Upon entering her apartment, she didn’t waste time. Before she could second-guess her choice, she led him into her bedroom. There, she finally turned around and let every reckless whim guide her.

“Want to help me get out of these itchy clothes?” she asked him.

“Of course!” Chris said eagerly. “Isn’t that what a gentleman does?”

Ignoring, for the moment, how little he had in common with a traditional gentleman, Sharon let him strip her as they made their way to the bed. He was surprisingly courtesy in that he didn’t rip her clothes off like her mother said men would if she gave them the chance. He was almost gentle in how he slid her pants down her legs, even teasing her feet as he laid her down on the bed.

“Simple, brand-name underwear,” he commented up on seeing her in her bra and panties. “I like it!”

“You probably say that to all half-naked women,” Sharon said.

“You’d be surprised.”

He might have been right about that, but Sharon tried not to overthink the situation. She just watched as Chris shed his clothes, as well, removing everything but his boxers. He then joined her on the bed, getting on top of her gazing upon her with a lust she’d been taught her whole life to avoid.

“You ready for the main course? Or do you need some appetizers?” Chris asked, sounding like every bad porno she’d ever seen.

“It’s uh…been a while for me,” Sharon told him. “I might need a little extra care.”

“No problem!” he said confidently. “I don’t mind going the slow and steady route.”

Sharon replied with a flirtatious grin, hiding the fact that she had never let a man touch her in such an intimate way. For much of her life, the thought of letting any man put his hands on her like that was abhorrent. She had to set all that aside, if only to give Chris – and men, as a whole – a fair chance.

It wasn’t like she had avoided all sexual activity. Her mother – most likely in an effort to keep her away from men – actually bought her a vibrator when she was a teenager. She even let her watch porn, although she only tolerated lesbian porn. In her youth, that had been plenty stimulating. She’d even had a sexual relationship, of sorts, with a lesbian woman at one point.

Even though her mother had been vocal with her approval, something about it just didn’t feel complete. It was as though she’d only ever explored half of her desires, at most. At time went on, men found their way into her sexual thoughts, so much so that she couldn’t shut them out.

Chris wasn’t the first man that had evoked sexual feelings in her. He was just the most convenient way to explore those feelings. In her mind, if she could still experience pleasure with a man after everything her mother had done to demonize them, then that would go a long way towards proving her wrong.

“Just lie back and let me work my magic,” Chris said as he guided her to the center of the bed. “I think you’ll find I know my way around the female body.”

“That…would be surprising,” she said under her breath.

Despite all the factors urging her to do otherwise, Sharon went along with the horny man’s lustful request. She soon found herself lying flat on her back, resting her head on her pillow, as Chris got on top of her and went to work.

It started with a simple make-out session, his lips smothering hers with his sensual hunger. Somewhere, along the way, he removed her bra and trailed his lips down her body, paying extra attention to her breasts. He kissed her exposed flesh, again showing a surprising amount of care. He wasn’t trying to devour her as much as he was trying to savor her exposed flesh.

At first, it felt strange. Before long, though, it felt good.

“Mmm…you taste good,” Chris said, his voice muffled by her breasts.

Sharon replied with light moans, but didn’t completely succumb to the same lust. However, that quickly changed after he removed her panties and got his first taste of the tender womanly flesh between her thighs.

“Ooh!” Sharon gasped.

“Whoa!” he said. “It has been a while for you.”

He had no idea and Sharon didn’t intend to let him know. She’d presented herself as someone who regularly took guys up to her apartment and fooled around. She needed Chris to believe that in order to make all the risks worthwhile. Near as she could tell, he wasn’t overthinking the situation.

He was just touching and tasting her naked skin, as though it were a succulent treat. After tossing her panties aside, his gaze narrowed on her inner thighs. She even noticed him licking his lips in anticipation.

“That’s a nice-looking pussy you have there,” he commented. “Mind if I have a taste?”

“Please,” Sharon said, as though it were the most polite thing in the world.

With a dazed, but eager look on his face, the young man pushed her thighs apart with both hands and indulged in her womanhood. His eagerness, alone, surprised her. Sharon had been led to believe that men only liked receiving oral sex and rarely gave it. Even if Chris was an outlier, there was no denying his demeanor. He was a man and he enjoyed eating a woman’s pussy out.

That was jarring enough, but Sharon didn’t care. His efforts did exactly what she needed him to do. He was not too coordinated. He wasn’t overly-thorough, either. That didn’t matter, though. Chris showed he knew enough about female anatomy to get her juices flowing in ways that directly countered her mother’s warnings.

“Ohhh yeah!” she moaned. “That…that feels good.”

“Mmm…you almost sound surprised,” he teased, briefly looking up from her inner thighs.

He had no idea how big a deal it was for her. The idea that a man actually enjoyed something that gave a woman direct pleasure just didn’t fit with her mother’s narrative of men being selfish pigs. While her mother would’ve argued that Chris had only gone down on her to ensure he got what he wanted, Sharon couldn’t accept that something that felt so good could be that selfish.

As enjoyable as it was, she picked up on Chris’ secondary agenda. While giving her oral sex, he’d been pleasing himself as well, getting his manhood nice and hard. It was the most effective act of multitasking she’d seen in any man to date. Regardless of how her mother viewed men, Chris proved that they could stay focused when motivated.

“God, I love the taste of a hot, moist pussy,” said Chris after giving her outer folds one last lick.

“I love that you love it,” Sharon teased. “Your generosity is…appreciated.”

“Just doing what I got to do to make the next part easier for both of us!”

With a curt grin, as if to flaunt his manliness, he rose up and removed his boxers, revealing a fully-erect penis that looked ready to enter a willing vagina. Her mother once told Sharon that any penis attached to a man was inherently repulsive. Chris might not have been the most attractive or endowed man she’d ever seen, but the sight of his manly physique hovering over her did plenty to fuel her arousal.

“You ready?” he asked as he loomed over her with lustful intent.

“Are you asking me? Or telling me?” she teased.

“Only if you’re anything less than ready for some fucking!”

“Then, I guess that depends.”

“On what?” he asked intently.

“On just how good you can make it!”

It wasn’t just a flirtatious quip. Now clutching his shoulders, gazing up at him with burning desire, she dared him with her eyes to prove himself. He didn’t have to completely disprove everything her mother had ever taught her about men. He just had to demonstrate that he could give a woman quality, enjoyable sex. Chris, meathead or not, seemed up for the challenge.

“In that case, I’d say we’re both ready!” he said confidently.

“Less talking…more fucking,” Sharon said intently.

There was no turning back. At that point, she’d given Chris free reign over her naked body. He could drop the façade and use her like his personal fuck toy. He could also demonstrate that even a horny man getting what he wanted could be trusted to that extent. Sharon was about to find out.

Instinctively, she braced herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She felt it as Chris’ upper body made contact with hers, his manly sinews meshing with her feminine curves. As naked skin meshed with naked skin, he tightened his grip on her thighs, holding her legs apart as he guided his rigid manhood to her womanhood.

Then, with a thrust of his hips, he entered her.

“Ohhh yeah!” Chris moaned. “So hot and tight…you like that?”

Sharon replied with a sharp gasp. That was all she could manage. She genuinely struggled to process the feeling that had just washed over her. She’d been led to believe that any act that involved a man penetrating a woman with a body part could only be uncomfortable. While it hadn’t been disproved entirely, she already found herself questioning that assumption.

Chris didn’t wait for her to finish processing it. He had already begun moving his body, burying his face in her neck and working his dick within her tight folds. He wasn’t too rough, establishing a steady pace of sex. It didn’t completely rock her world, but it certainly rocked the bed enough to remind her that she was really doing it. She was having sex with a man, despite her mother’s efforts.

“Wow! This feels good…no, great!” Sharon proclaimed.

She sounded even more surprised than she did before. Chris didn’t seem to notice, though. He was too focused on their sex, thrusting his hips and caressing her naked body. It was so hot and intimate, his naked skin gliding against hers, masculine sinews meshing with feminine curves. It wasn’t supposed to be so intoxicating. It was just supposed to be sex, but it quickly evolved into something else.

As Chris maintained the sexual rhythm, Sharon found herself supplementing his efforts. She acted on a mix of instinct and lust, raking her fingers down his back and arching her body in just the right ways every time he drove into her. The feeling of his hard, manly flesh slithering inside her stimulated parts that she didn’t know existed. Even a vibrator could only do so much. There was just something different about an actual, throbbing penis in conjunction with a man’s body.

It felt so good that Sharon expected it to end abruptly. She’d heard plenty of jokes about how men barely make it beyond the first dozen humps before they blow their load. Chris didn’t seem that eager to rush the experience. It was easy to assume that he just wanted to show off his prowess so that he could brag to others who good he was in bed. However, it was just as likely that he wanted to draw out an inherently pleasurable feeling and Sharon was more than happy to let him.

“You…are so sexy,” Chris said into her ear, part of his face still buried in her neck.

“And you’re so…considerate,” Sharon gasped, still struggling to form words.

“Considerate? I can do better than that!”

Chris seemed to take that as a challenge. At first, Sharon worried that she’d said something wrong. For all she knew, the best parts were over and everything from that point forward would prove her mother right. Once again, she braced herself.

In another display of bravado, he rose up slightly so that he was in a more upright position. Her legs still hooked around his waist, he began humping her at a different angle. However, he threw a little something extra into his efforts. As he worked his manly flesh within her depths, he used his thumb to stimulate her clit. Either the man had just paid extra attention in health class or he genuinely cared about bringing a woman to orgasm.

“How’s that? Is that better?” he said with a cocky grin.

“Oohhh!” was all Sharon got out.

Her body reacted before her brain could process everything. She grabbed hold of the sheets, closed her eyes and panted heavily as a flood of powerful sensations shot through her. What they’d been doing before had been pleasurable, but it only took her so far on the path to ecstasy. That extra effort, stimulating her most sensitive areas with such determined care, sent her down the rest of that blissful with stunning efficacy.

At that moment, another profound realization sank in. She wasn’t just having sex with a man. She was going to achieve orgasm with one of them. If that weren’t astonishing enough, a man was going to give it to her. If there was a more effective way to shatter her old assumptions about men, she hadn’t heard of it.

“Like that! Ohhh just like that!” she gasped, increasingly short of breath. “You’re going to make me…I’m going to…ohhhh yes!”

That orgasmic chorus filled the room. There was nothing fake or exaggerated about it. She experience a real, toe-curling orgasm. Every muscle contraction and blissful sensation carried more meaning than usual, as if to directly counter every man-hating rant her mother had ever made.

“The sound of a woman coming,” Chris said, “I never get tired of that!”

He still sounded arrogant and crude, but Sharon didn’t mind. He’d just giving her an orgasm. He earned the right to brag. Logistically speaking, it made too much sense. To back up his bravado, he had to give her great sex. To give her great sex, he had to do it in a way she enjoyed. He got what he wanted. She got what she wanted. It was almost like sex was a collaborative effort.

Sharon would’ve laughed if she weren’t still processing the ecstasy. She was content to just soak in the feeling while Chris pursued his own peak. He kept the pace of their sex slow, shifting his grip to her butt and giving it a firm squeeze as their naked bodies moved together in blissful harmony. By the time he neared his peak, Sharon had completed her orgasmic journey. In doing so, she opened her eyes and watched the man before her complete his.

“Almost…there!” Chris grunted. “Just…a little…oh fuck!”

His orgasm wasn’t as theatrical as hers. After a few more targeted hips thrusts, his expression contorted and his grip on her butt intensified as he got his release. Sharon even felt it as his cock throbbed inside her in accord with his release.

Her climax directly led to his.

Her pleasure became his pleasure.

Inside her, the juices of their sex blended together, their shared ecstasy taking a tangible form.

“I feel it,” Sharon said distantly. “Inside me…so nice and hot…I really feel it.”

She doubted Chris heard him. That look on his face – the O-face that she once joked about, no less – made clear that he was in too blissful a daze to hear. That didn’t matter, though. Whether he knew it or not, he just changed everything she thought she knew about men.

When he finally opened his eyes, that post-orgasmic afterglow already setting in, she made it a point to cast him an affectionate smile. He smiled back, still looking dazed, if not somewhat goofy. That didn’t stop her from drawing him back into an embrace and giving him a kiss.

“Thank you, Chris,” she said to him intently.

“For giving you the good fucking I promised? You’re welcome!” Chris replied proudly.

He laughed as their naked bodies finally parted, exhaustion and satisfaction settling over them as the room fell silent. Sharon smiling, though. Chris might have been arrogant, crude, and immature. From his perspective, he just banged a pretty girl and did it well enough to ensure she enjoyed it. That was as meaningful as their sex had been for him.

For her, however, the meaning went beyond the sex. Chris was not some dignified gentleman. He wasn’t some thick-headed brute, either. He sought sex with a pretty girl and getting it didn’t mean using her, as her mother often warned. In fact, that would’ve made it harder to achieve the satisfaction they’d shared.

She trusted him with her body.

He rewarded that trust and she rewarded him back.

A man she barely knew, who only wanted sex, proved that she could trust a man. The end result wasn’t just great sex. It was definitive proof that her mother had been wrong.

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“Dark Phoenix” Review: An Astonishing End To An Uncanny Era

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It’s never easy, trying to capture the essence of an iconic story. It’s even harder when you’ve tried once before and failed miserably. To say that “Dark Phoenix” faced more challenges than most movies would be like saying tobacco companies have an image problem. Many of those challenges go beyond the story, the franchise, the studios, and even the movie industry, as a whole.

Despite so many confounding circumstances, the most important challenge of “Dark Phoenix” was always the same. After this iconic X-Men story was horribly botched in “X-Men The Last Stand,” this movie’s primary goal was to do that story justice. The director and long-time X-Men producer, Simon Kinberg, has gone on record as saying he failed in his first attempt. This movie gives him a chance to rectify that.

Before I get into the fiery details, which may include light spoilers, I’d like to offer my personal sentiment after having seen the movie. I understand that not everyone will agree with me, but as a long-time lover of X-Men, this movie means a lot more to me than most in the superhero genre so I like to think that sentiment is strong.

Yes, “Dark Phoenix” does justice to the X-Men’s most iconic story.

Yes, “Dark Phoenix” succeeds where “X-Men The Last Stand” failed.

Yes, “Dark Phoenix” is a satisfying conclusion to this era of X-Men that has spanned nearly two decades.

I realize that many might disagree with my assessment. That’s perfectly fine. Every movie impacts people in different ways. For me, though, “Dark Phoenix” struck all the necessary chords and then some. It focused on the core components of what makes the Phoenix Saga so endearing and runs with it.

That means that there aren’t multiple plots being juggled constantly. From the very first scene, the focus is on Jean Grey and her journey towards becoming Dark Phoenix. It’s a journey that has a foundation in tragedy, lies, love, betrayal, and loss. What happens to her is never just a matter of circumstance. There are tough, meaningful decisions made before, during, and after the darkness consumes Jean.

At every turn, there is plenty of drama. Jean Grey isn’t just some obscure side-character. She’s surrounded by people who love her. Charles Xavier loves her like a surrogate daughter. Mystique loves her like a sister. To Cyclops, she’s the woman he loves and for once, there’s no terrible love triangle that detracts from that love.

That love gives the drama incredible weight, which is critical for any story derived from the Phoenix Saga. It also ensures the losses leave a major impact and, as one of the trailers revealed, those losses are pretty devastating. They’re not just glossed over or forgotten, which was a huge issue with “X-Men The Last Stand.” They resonate throughout the story and inform the decisions of multiple characters.

That’s not to say every aspect is caught up in personal dramas. “Dark Phoenix” still utilizes a villain to maintain some basic superhero dynamics. That villain, played by Jessica Chastain, isn’t as iconic as Magneto or Apocalypse. She and her villainous henchmen are aliens known as the D’Brai, who actually play a critical role in the original story from the comics.

While Chastain is no Thanos, she and her fellow D’Brai have clear, understandable motivations. They’re not just there to cause more suffering and upheaval. They sense the power in Jean and they want to use it to serve their agenda. That’s perfectly consistent with what Jean and the X-men faced in those same comics.

It also firmly establishes that the Phoenix Force in “Dark Phoenix” is not at all like the one on display in “X-Men The Last Stand.” The Phoenix isn’t some split personality within Jean. This movie actually embraces the more cosmic aspects of that story. While it only does so to a point, it helps raise the stakes in a way that goes beyond trying to save or kill Jean Grey.

Even with these cosmic elements, however, “Dark Phoenix” never loses its focus on Jean, her struggles, and the X-Men’s efforts to save her. The pace of the movie rarely slows down. Things happen quickly and concisely. There are still plenty of intimate character moments along the way, but they never drag. The plot keeps unfolding until the very end.

I won’t spoil too many of the details, but I will say that the ending is far less dire and depressing than what unfolded in “X-Men The Last Stand.” Jean isn’t a coward this time around. She doesn’t constantly whine or beg others to kill her before it’s too late. She is the one who ultimately decides her fate. More importantly, she is the one who makes those difficult choices.

Making all this drama and action work wouldn’t be possible without Sophie Turner turning in a truly uncanny performance as Jean Grey. She goes through many emotions over the course of the story. There are scenes in which she goes through more in five minutes than Famke Janssen did in the first three X-Men movies combined. She carries herself wonderfully through the movie’s most intense moments.

The collective efforts of James McAvoy as Charles Xavier, Michael Fassbender as Magneto, Tye Sherridan as Cyclops, and Nicholas Hoult as Beast perfectly complement Turner every step of the way. They capture those essential elements of family and team that’s so critical for every X-Men movie. This being their last ride with these characters, they make the most of the opportunity.

Unfortunately, some characters don’t get as many chances. Alexandra Shipp’s Storm and Evan Peters’ Quicksilver have fairly limited roles, although Shipp turns in a powerful performance in the final battle. Chastain’s alien character, and the D’brai in general, only gets so much refinement. However, that doesn’t make “Dark Phoenix” any less effective because it is, at its core, a story about Jean Grey.

There are other flaws in the movie. To some extent, the constant focus on Jean and the rapid pace of the action prevent other characters or side-plots from getting much emphasis. The long-running romantic sub-plot between Beast and Mystique had some moments, but not nearly enough to maximize the impact of the story.

There are also times when the visuals of “Dark Phoenix” aren’t as colorful as they could’ve been. To some extent, that’s more a reflection on the overall style of the X-Men movies, going back to the first one in 2000. These movies have never focused too much on the flashy costumes that are so prominent in the comics. Considering the iconic styles teased at the end of “X-men Apocalypse,” it’s somewhat disappointing.

This movie might have been able to get away with that 10 years ago, but the rise of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and its embracement of iconic superhero attire make the overall style of the movie seem uninspiring. For most of the movie, nobody even wears a uniform or costume. While a movie like “Logan” can pull that off, it doesn’t work nearly as well in “Dark Phoenix.”

There are some moments where the visual effects really shine, but not in the ones that would’ve really complemented Jean Grey’s journey. While that fiery halo does show up at one point, it feels like it doesn’t show up enough and wasn’t quite as radiant as its brief appearance in “X-men Apocalypse.”

The finer details of the story aren’t flawless either. While they remain concise until the end, there’s a bit of ambiguity in terms of how the events in this movie tie to the epilogue in “X-Men: Days of Future Past.” There’s certainly enough to imply that this movie does not completely undermine that ending, but a lack of specifics leaves a lot of gaps for the audience to fill in.

Even with these shortcomings, the most important components of “Dark Phoenix” still work. It seeks to tell a focused Phoenix story for Jean Grey and it never loses sight of that goal. The acting, the drama, and a brilliant musical score by Hans Zimmer simply add more gravitas to the mix.

Over two years ago, I wrote an article that laid out how the “Dark Phoenix” could succeed in this golden age of superhero movies. Pretty much everything on that list came to pass. This movie embraced the passion surrounding this iconic story. It made use of the Cyclops/Jean romance, kept the Phoenix as the primary plot, and ensured every dramatic moment felt genuine. It didn’t check every box, but it came pretty damn close.

Does that mean that “Dark Phoenix” is among the greatest superhero movies ever made? No, I wouldn’t make that case, especially when it came out the same year as “Avengers Endgame.” The bar for superhero movies is higher than it has ever been before and it’s a difficult standard to apply to a movie like “Dark Phoenix.”

Does that mean that “Dark Phoenix” is the greatest X-Men movie ever made? No, I wouldn’t make that case, either. There are other X-Men movies that rank above this one in terms, but it still captures the most important elements that makes these movies so endearing.

Is it a great movie in general? Yes, I certainly would say it is. If I had to score this movie, I would give it an 8 out of 10. It sets out to do a fitting adaptation of the Phoenix Saga and it succeeds, utilizing all the necessary drama and action along the way. It also caps off 19 years of X-Men movies.

Now, as the X-Men stand poised to enter the MCU, this part of their journey can end and “Dark Phoenix” ended it on a truly uncanny note.

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Why I Believe In Climate Change, But Doubt Environmentalists

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There aren’t a lot of hot button issues that genuinely affect everyone. The environment is one of those issues. We all live in it. We’re all impacted by it. Whenever it changes significantly, we all feel it. That’s why, regardless of your politics or personal leanings, we should take environmental issues seriously.

Given that preface, I’d like to make my own sentiments clear. The environment, like other sensitive topics I’ve discussed, is prone to all sorts of secondary agendas. Some who claim to take environmental issues seriously often do so because it serves their interest in other, often indirect ways. In the interest of transparency, this is where I stand on the environment.

I do believe that climate change is real, human activity is contributing to it, and we should pursue policies to improve the environment and promote cleaner industry.

However, I don’t entirely trust the rhetoric, sincerity, and positions of those who identify as environmentalists.

I know that sounds like someone trying to have their cake and eat it too, but there is a context here. It’s one that I’ve developed over a number of years, some of which I’ve been on the side hardcore environmentalists. As I’ve gotten older, however, I see more and more complications with this issue and not just in terms of the absurd conspiracy theories it attracts.

While I know this will put me at odds certain parts of the political spectrum, I generally accept that the existing science surrounding climate change. The Earth is getting warmer and human activity is a major cause. There have been real, tangible impacts attributed to climate change and I believe those links are real.

The point where I often deviate from environmentalists is when issues of feasible solutions emerge. I’m happy to support efforts that raise awareness and educates the public on the existential dangers of climate change. However, just sounding the alarm is only half the battle. The other half involves doing something about it and this is where environmentalists have a problem.

It’s not that they outright avoid talking about solutions, which sets them apart from other agenda-driven politics. Some of their solutions do have merit and some are even making headway into the economy. However, there’s an over-arching theme of those solutions that leads me to question just how much the environment actually matters to certain environmentalists.

Talk to any self-identified environmentalist and, usually after they’re done talking about melted ice caps and dying polar bears, they’ll single out greedy corporations as the enemy. They tend to lump oil companies, coal producers, and any corporation that doesn’t sound eco-friendly as part of some international consortium of billionaires intent on maintaining their pollution-loving ways for the sake of profit.

Now, I don’t like defending big corporations, especially when their track record in protecting the environment has plenty of room for improvement. At the same time, I have a hard time believing that the solution to such an enormous problem involves battling big, industrial polluters as though it were an episode of “Captain Planet.”

As much as I love cheesy cartoons in the 1990s, the problems of the real world are far more complicated. Environmentalists, like many other vocal politically-driven groups, try to simplify the issue. Through their protests and the rhetoric surrounding it, they give the impression that to save the world, they need only defeat the evil polluters.

This is where I don’t just question the veracity of environmentalists. I genuinely doubt that the environment is their primary concern. If it were, then protesting polluters would only be a small part of their efforts. If they’re serious about making the world cleaner and more efficient, they would dedicate more time and energy into improving clean energy technology, which itself is prone to corporate greed.

This disconnect is most apparent whenever the topic of nuclear power comes up. Unlike other green energy technologies, nuclear energy is a mature technology that has been providing energy for decades. Compared to other forms of energy, it has very low emissions, but provides abundant energy, regardless of whether the sun is shining or the wind is blowing.

Despite those benefits, the same environmentalists who favor shutting down coal power plants won’t support the construction or further refinement of nuclear power planets. They’ll even outright oppose it and for reasons every bit as irrational as those championed by climate change deniers.

While there are legitimate disadvantages to utilizing nuclear power, I rarely hear environmentalists promote efforts to mitigate those issues. They won’t champion the development of advanced nuclear power, including versions that produce far less waste and are less prone to meltdowns. Many won’t even concede it as an option.

This is akin to anti-abortion advocates who support making abortion illegal in all cases, but also oppose contraception, despite the fact it significantly reduces abortions. It also parallels other environmentalists who protest the usage of genetically modified foods, but overlook the distressing fact that billions would starve without this technology.

It’s not just a case of the perfect being the enemy of the good. It’s environmentalists favoring a particular narrative over actual solutions to the problems they protest. As I’ve noted before, people like to believe that they’re the heroes of their own story. When they take a particular position, they see themselves as the underdogs in an epic struggle against good and evil.

While that makes for great superhero comics and Tolkien novels, it rarely aligns with reality. Environmentalists think they’re protesting a greedy corporation run by an army of Lex Luthors who enjoy bathing in the tears of starving orphans, but the truth is more complicated and more mundane.

A key part of that truth that environmentalists tend to overlook is the fact that, no matter how greedy or evil a corporation may be, they have a vested interest in the world remaining intact. Corporations, be they greedy or virtuous, are driven to make profits. They can’t make profits, nor enjoy the fruits of their wealth, in a world where the planet is a toxic wasteland.

That’s why even oil companies, the boogeyman of many environmentalists, are actively researching more environmentally friendly products. It’s also why oil-rich countries like Saudi Arabia, which has harmed the environment in ways beyond pollution, is also investing in a post-oil economy.

It’s very likely that the advances in green energy that will improve the environment won’t come from some dedicated environmentalist who protests outside of coal plants. Chances are it will be some greedy, profit-seeking business person trying to make money in a world where the demand for energy is rapidly increasing.

Beyond just generating energy, those same greedy billionaires have just as much incentive to create clean, lush landscapes that attract other billionaires and customers. In general, people don’t like being in polluted communities. Aside from the illness and misery it generates, it also means there are fewer people buying goods and producing for the economy. Even the most devious billionaire is hurt by that.

The incentives for improving the environment are already there. That’s not to say there aren’t some who are truly malicious in how they treat the environment, but in terms of an investment that helps greedy people get richer, it’s one of the worst investments anyone can make and not just because of the bad PR it generates.

Environmentalists will gladly single out those exceedingly malicious corporations, but ignore the bigger picture. They, ironically, don’t see the forest from the trees when it comes to action that genuinely improves the environment. They cling to that epic war raging in their minds of them battling evil corporations that are out to destroy the planet, as though that would somehow benefit any business.

I get the appeal of wanting to feel like a hero in an epic struggle. My love of superhero comics should be proof enough of that. However, when that same struggle both ignores and undermines real solutions that could alleviate a serious issue, then it’s hard to take environmentalist rhetoric seriously.

There’s having genuine concern for the environment and then there’s just being against greedy corporations. Those who are unable to discern between the two can call themselves a lot of things, but they certainly aren’t helping the environment.

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Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: Black Cat #1

Every Wednesday, this crazy and chaotic world gets a bit more bearable when a new stack of comics enters this world. Some feature iconic superheroes. Others feature devious villains. Some dare explore the vast gray area in between. Of all the new comics this week, one book dares to stand out by staking a claim in that gray area.

Black Cat #1” is one of those comics that probably wasn’t on many peoples’ radar. Felicia “Black Cat” Hardy is not one of those obscure comic book characters that only ardent Marvel fans know about, nor is she in that top-tier class occupied by the likes of Spider-Man and Captain America. However, whenever she shows up, she finds a way to leave her mark and looks dead sexy while doing it.

For years, Black Cat was a supporting character for Spider-Man who often fluctuated between being a sexy villainous, a volatile love interest, and a full-fledged anti-hero. At her core, she’s a thief who treats stealing as an art and a profession rather than a matter of necessity. She’s basically a female Danny Oceans with infinitely more sex appeal.

Black Cat #1” doesn’t try to shake up those previous roles. Instead, it embraces Black Cat’s thieving persona. It even celebrates it in ways that rarely play out in a typical Spider-Man comic. It showcases just how capable, devious, and downright coy Black Cat can be when she’s at her best.

There’s no Spider-Man sub-plot here. The plot in “Black Cat #1” is entirely built entirely around Felicia Hardy organizing a daring heist. However, it’s not just for money or thrills this time.

Thanks to recent events in Amazing Spider-Man, she has a target on her back. In addition to the police and various other superheroes who don’t take kindly to thieves, she managed to piss off the Thieve’s Guild, an organization that tends to hold a nasty grudge, even by comic book standards.

Black Cat can’t simply rely on her cunning, skill, and sexiness to get out of her predicament. She also can’t do everything on her own, for once. As such, she has to exercise both her thieving skills and her ability to manage a crew of other thieves who don’t have a romantic history with Spider-Man.

It’s a simple heist that requires a complex effort. It’s not quite on the same level as “Ocean’s 11,” but it’s not as simple as just breaking the glass and sneaking through air vents. In fact, “Black Cat #1” avoids some standard thieving tropes, focusing instead on everyone who tries to stop Felicia.

I won’t spoil many of the details, but I will note that they fail. Whether they’re security guards, police officers, or ninjas attacking her car, they certainly make a concerted effort. True to her skill and persona, Black Cat fights back and smiles a lot in the process.

Writer, Jed MacKay, captures both the personality and spirit of who Black Cat is. For once, she isn’t pushed into a particular role, as is often the case when she shows up in a Spider-Man comic. He lets her be herself. He gives her a voice that feels distinct and appropriately sassy. The collective artwork of Mike Dowling, Travel Foreman, and Nao Fuji ensures she looks good every step of the way.

That’s an accomplishment because one of Black Cat’s biggest shortcomings is that it’s not always easy to root for her. While she never descends too deep into outright villainy, she can often come as crass and manipulative, even without Spider-Man. That never happens in “Black Cat #1.” She only ever seems confident, charismatic, and focused.

On its own, “Black Cat #1” is a solid, well-contained heist story involving one of Marvel’s most famous thieves. It shows Black Cat when she’s at her best, stealing things that are difficult to steal and navigating obstacles that frustrate even the more competent villains. There’s never a point where you feel like rooting against her.

What makes “Black Cat #1” even more compelling, as a comic, is how it sets up the next part of Felicia Hardy’s story. Unlike many other stories where she acts mostly as a supporting character, the one MacKay teases feels more personal. It doesn’t just present a new challenge. It adds a significant complication to a life that is already inherently complicated by being affiliated with Spider-Man.

Even if you don’t know much about Black Cat or haven’t paid much attention to her story in recent years, “Black Cat #1” is one of those rare comics that can sell you on a character. In one issue, you get a good idea of who she is, what she’s about, and why she matters in the larger Marvel universe. In that same issue, you also get a sense that there’s more to her story and it’s about to change in a major way.

Some characters need to be overhauled while others need to be reinvented. Black Cat needed none of that. She just needed a chance to show what she can do and how much fun it can be to see her work. That’s exactly what “Black Cat #1” delivers.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Long Distance Love

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If you’ve ever been in love or followed romance in any capacity, you’ve probably heard the saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder. As someone who has consumed more romantic media than any straight man will dare admit, I can attest that it’s one of the most common mantras that doesn’t involve old Beatles songs.

At its core, it makes an important point about the strength of love. It’s not always possible for two lovers to be together, if only physically. Even before the age of the Internet and Tinder, the natural chaos of life required people to part ways every now and then. When that happened, the extent of someone’s love truly reveals itself.

I know this because one of the most serious relationship I ever had was a long distance relationship. In college, I dated a girl who went to another university that was not just a quick bus ride away. Much of our romantic exchanges had to happen through a phone or a computer screen. It was tricky, but it did make those moments when we came together that much more meaningful.

Relationships over distance are tough. There’s a good reason why over half of them fail in the long run. However, those that succeed show a strength that reflects just how powerful love can be, despite the distance. Even though my long-distance relationship didn’t work out, the romantic in me can’t help but admire those that do.

For some, a long-distance relationship is untenable. There’s just no substitute for true physical intimacy. For others, however, distance really does foster a fond heart and that heart beats stronger when they finally get a chance at intimacy. This Daily Sexy Musing is a brief exploration of this old romantic saying and its deeply intimate undertones.

When I first felt your touch, there was a spark. That spark became a fire and that fire became an inferno. The memory still burns hot in my mind, from the moments that led up to it to those we created after. With one touch, the breadth of our passion was born.

Then, new obstacles emerged.

Then, new endeavors revealed themselves.

Then, new distances formed.

Between us, the gap widened and grew. Suddenly, the memories of your touch became more precious. For long periods, it is beyond my reach. I can only evoke those memories through screens and sounds from afar. They keep the memory vivid, but they make that fire burn brighter.

Through the distance, I feel your love.

Through the distance, I convey my desire.

Through the distance, I long for you.

Through the distance, I seek the right strength.

At times, it gets so cold and lonely. Memories and messages only go so far. Warm reminders keep our love going, but only adds to greater longing. Every moment we spend apart becomes a moment of escalating tension. On some nights, it’s unbearable, knowing you’re out there and I’m not with you.

Finally, you return and the tension breaks.

Finally, you touch me again and a new fire erupts.

Finally, you are with me and our love is stronger.

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“King of the Hill” Vs. “F is for Family” And The Evolution/Disillusion Of The American Dream

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What happened to the American Dream? That’s a question more and more people are asking these days. It’s a question people have been asking in some form or another for decades. Even if you’re not American, it’s relevant because as politics and economics become more global, there’s a sense that a great many people are being left behind. More recently, it feels like that trend is accelerating.

Since I’m not a political scientist or an economist, I’m not qualified to break down all the factors behind these trends. However, given my age and relative experiences, I’ve witnessed many of the changes and upheavals that have shaped the current state of affairs. Over that period, I’ve even seen those changes reflected in two iconic animated TV shows from two disparate eras.

One is “King of the Hill,” a colorful slice of the late 90s/early 2000s cultural zeitgeist. The other is “F is for Family,” a show that, despite taking place in the 1970s, heaps plenty of scathing criticism on current American ideals. I’ve written about both shows before, citing the former as a lesson in work ethic and the latter as a perfect satire for its time. I also consider myself a fan of both shows.

Combined

On their own, they each have their own sense of style, story, and overall humor. They’re both entertaining and endearing in their own unique way. When placed side-by-side, though, they reflect an even greater message that goes beyond the themes of either shows. That message can be summed up with one harsh realization.

The American Dream isn’t just failing. Those who pursue it are being punished.

I know it sounds bleak, if not fatalistic. It’s certainly not a message that “King of the Hill” and “F is for Family” ever state overtly. However, when placed in the context of their time and their over-arching themes, the overarching themes are clear, if not unavoidable.

In terms of ideals, Hank Hill and Frank Murphy have a lot in common. They’re both hard-working American men who see themselves as embodiments of American values. They take pride in their roles and responsibilities as husbands, fathers, and providers. They’re active in shaping the identity of their community. They both have an idealized vision of what the American Dream entails.

Some of those similarities extend to their family and how they impact the structure of the show. Many plots in “King of the Hill” and “F is for Family” revolve around Hank and Frank reacting to events that happen within their family. They have wives that seek their own path and kids who rarely appreciate the work they do. Much of the comedy in each show emerges from these conflicts.

The face of many such conflicts.

Things really start to differ when the bigger picture of their respective worlds comes in. Whereas “King of the Hill” reflects a more optimistic view of the world that was more prevalent in the late 1990s, “F is for Family” paints a more dire picture. In Frank’s world, American ideals are failing and he’s struggling just to keep that vision alive.

In just three seasons, Frank has lost his job, struggled to provide for his family, and had his dreams derailed again when his wife gets pregnant. While his temper and his penchant for threatening to put people through walls don’t help, many of the factors that put him in such situations aren’t his fault. In fact, his tendency to do things the right way, as Hank often does, often work against him.

This isn’t even Frank’s worst day.

Within this dynamic, “King of the Hill” and “F is for Family” diverge in a critical way that speaks to the larger issues surrounding the American Dream. In the world of “King of the Hill,” doing the right thing and following American values are rewarded. It’s one of the show’s most common themes over the course of 13 seasons.

In this world, working hard at a blue collar job is fulfilling, respectable, and rewarding.

In this world, a man can support his family with a job that involves selling propane and propane accessories.

In this world, people who take short-cuts or try to avoid hard work ultimately fail.

In this world, a man who marries the woman he impregnates is rewarded with respect, support, and admiration.

Simply put, adhering to principles of hard work, high morals, and personal responsibility will help someone achieve the American dream. Hank Hill, with his quaint suburban house and supportive community, is the personification of these principles. It’s not always easy for him, given his influences, but that only makes his adherence to those principles more respectable.

This is virtuous system is not present in “F is for Family.” If anything, it’s turned upside down. Frank Murphy followed those principles as closely as Hank. He put his personal goals on hold when his wife got pregnant. He served his country dutifully when he got drafted. He works hard and provides, despite having a slob for a boss. However, his efforts go unrewarded. If anything, they’re punished.

In Frank Murphy’s world, a hard-working man can save the company he works for, but still get fired.

In Frank Murphy’s world, marrying your pregnant girlfriend instead of following your dreams will only get you ungrateful kids, a miserable wife, and an unfulfilling job.

In Frank Murphy’s world, people who eschew hard work and behave irresponsibility are rewarded with cocaine-fueled parties and trophy wives.

In Frank Murphy’s world, a corporation can steal your idea and make millions off it while you don’t even get credit.

The system is harsh, unfair, and completely unconcerned with who adheres to American ideals. The only thing that ever seems to matter is dumb luck and already having significant wealth or privilege. Sadly, this is a lot more consistent with the current state of affairs where the rich and powerful exact immense influence, creating a system that benefits those at the top while straining everyone else.

Frank yelling on behalf of America.

This unfair system even extends beyond the political and economic sphere. In “F is for Family,” there are multiple characters who seem to succeed, no matter how little they work or how unmotivated they are. It’s not unlike those who flaunt their lavish lifestyles on Instagram, which is often fueled by inherited wealth that they did not work for or earn.

That kind of system wouldn’t just leave Hank Hill aghast. It would completely undermine his world, his identity, and his ethics. Whether he would resort to putting people through walls instead of just kicking asses is difficult to determine, but the bigger picture is clear. The American Dream in his world is intact whereas its reversing course in “F is for Family.”

To some extent, this reversal is consistent with how the world has been trending since the late 1990s and early 2000s. People have become increasingly cynical and trust in institutions is declining. Thanks to the media and the internet, it’s getting harder to hide the harsh realities of a world where just doing the right thing isn’t enough anymore. Despite taking place before the internet, “F is for Family” perfectly reflects this reality.

The face of that harsh reality.

It creates a dynamic that’s bound to create more Frank Murphys and fewer Hank Hills. People are told that the American dream is still in their grasp. They just have to be like Hank, playing by the rules, working hard, and not taking shortcuts. Those who buy into that dream aren’t just let down. They’re outright punished.

Frank didn’t become a profanity-spewing rageaholic overnight. As perfectly depicted in the show’s opening credits, the various machinations of this unfair system just kept hitting him and no matter how hard he worked or how much he sacrificed, he never got closer to the American Dream. If anything, it just kept getting farther away.

Both “F is for Family” and “King of the Hill” have plenty to offer in terms of insights. Their respective worlds may take place in an animated world where former presidents and future serial killers can show up, but such exaggerated dynamics help each show convey a certain message that fit perfectly within the context of a certain time.

The idealism in “King of the Hill” and the satirical deconstruction in “F is for Family” paint conflicting pictures of the American Dream. Both still glorify it as an ideal, but each present a different understanding of how it plays out. Within the comedy, there are genuine, relevant messages worth considering.

For many people in the real, non-animated world, the American Dream still matters. Many still work as hard and as passionately as Hank Hill and Frank Murphy. It’s hard enough when those efforts go unrewarded, but when doing the right thing becomes a liability, it’s hard to call it a dream.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Summer BBQ Edition

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Summer has arrived. The weather is hot, school is out, pools are open, and bikinis are back in style. For anyone who values the ability to lounge around naked, it’s a wonderful time of year. While I’ve made my love of casual nudity known, there are plenty of other summer activities that I enjoy. A few of them can even be done while fully clothed.

One of them is a good summer barbecue. While I’m not that picky an eater, I’ve always had a special place in my heart for good barbecue. It helps that I come from a family that will make any excuse to have a barbecue. It doesn’t matter if it’s a holiday or not. If we can all get together, fire up a grill, and cook some great food, then we’ll find a way to make it happen.

I’ve always found barbecue to be the most social kind of eating. It’s the kind of food where you don’t just sit at a table. You walk around, you interact, and you create a fun atmosphere for all to enjoy. To some extent, it’s downright intimate. You’re eating food that’s fresh off the grill and hanging out in an open environment. Whether with family or strangers, it’s something everyone can appreciate.

Summer is prime barbecue season. I certainly plan on attending more than a few. I encourage everyone else who’s fond of hot weather and cold beer to participate whenever they can. This edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts is my way of ushering in this unique summer activity. Hopefully, it makes you hungry, among other things.


“Alcohol is probably just as responsible for creating many relationships as well as ruining them.”


“Love is the bedrock for a successful relationship, but orgasms are bricks and cement that help build it up.”


“In essence, a romantic gesture is just a more elaborate form of foreplay.”


“Take away the sex and prostitutes really aren’t that different from politicians.”


“If laughter is the best medicine, then making love is the best therapy.”


“Good lovers tend to their partner’s needs, but great lovers help them discover new ones.”


“A date is basically an elaborate guessing game on what will convince someone to regularly have sex with you.”


I hope that helped everyone work up an appetite. Summer has a great many appeals. Good barbecue is just one of them. Even without a gathering or an event, any season is made better by good food. If you have a chance to get out and enjoy one, I encourage you to do so. After all, no epic romance or sexy activity can be done on an empty stomach.

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“Sweet And Dirty” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about sweet women who talk dirty. I’ve known more than a few in my life. I even dated one. She was fun to be around. As someone who has a deep appreciation for the spoken and written word, they have a special place in my heart. Enjoy!

To most people, Layla Larone was the sweetest young woman that anyone had ever met. She had a smile that could light up any room, a feminine figure that rivaled that of any angel, and a spirit that made everyone want to be near her on their darkest days. Aden Stan knew that sweet side better than most. As her lover and fiancé, he drew plenty of envy from those who’d been captivated by Layla’s aura.

“Man, I still can’t believe you’re marrying Layla freaking Larone,” said Aaron Jay, Aden’s cousin and long-time friend.

“Gee, thanks,” Aden said, rolling his eyes. “You make it sound like I’m such a fine catch.”

“Come on! Don’t be like that, cous,” Aaron responded. “You’re an objectively great guy, but let’s not ignore the bigger picture, here.”

“And what picture might that be?”

“The same one everyone has been seeing since high school,” his cousin said. “Some women just have that special something – that perfect combination of looks, charisma, and energy that sets them apart. They could do anything, go anywhere, and be with anyone. She could go to Europe and marry a prince. She could go to any city and win over every heart. Hell, she could go to some remote village in the Amazon and be declared queen.”

“And yet she chose to be with me,” Aden said proudly. “A washed-up track star who makes his living as a contractor for his dad’s company.”

“Now, you’re just rubbing it in.”

“Am I? Or is there an even bigger picture you’re not seeing?” he teased.

“Now, you’re just being a dick.”

Aden and his cousin shared a good laugh, finishing up a cold beer on what had been another successful barbecue. Aaron’s family, who lived a couple blocks from the townhouse he and Layla shared, always threw one on the first weekend of May. They invited friends, neighbors, and family from all over, just to get together, catch up, and show off their fancy grilling equipment.

Aden hadn’t missed one since college and Layla never passed up an opportunity to meet, socialize, and endear herself to everyone even more. She also used it as an excuse to wear her newest sun dress. It was an unofficial rule in the neighborhood that winter wasn’t over until Layla Larone graced the world with her angelic beauty and summer fashion. By every measure, the rule had been met.

“You and Aaron throw such wonderful cookouts, Maya,” she told to Aaron’s sister. “After the winter we’ve had, this is such a treat.”

“You’re too kind, Layla,” Maya replied as she put out a fresh plate of hot dogs, “and I mean that literally. You didn’t have to help set up the tables and rent the bouncy house for the kids.”

“I know it’s more than usual, but I think the children are enjoying it. Even some of the adults are having fun!”

“Only after a few drinks,” she laughed. “But seriously, you got to keep raising the bar like this…being so kind and sweet to us all. You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“I do what I can and I’m glad to do it,” Layla said with that distinct blend of pride and humility. “I’ve always believed in going the extra mile. It shows others just how much we care.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say everyone knows how much you care. I almost feel bad for Aden. After today, all the men in the neighborhood are going to be even more jealous he’s marrying you.”

“That, unfortunately, I cannot help with.”

The two women laughed. Aden just kept smiling. Even though he’d been with her for years, she still lit up his world in her own special way. He didn’t care if it drew envy from everyone else in the neighborhood. He had the love of the most beautiful woman in the world and he wasn’t going to apologize for that.

If only they knew the full extent of Layla Larone’s love.

“Speaking of my future husband,” Layla said, “I believe he’s due for some extra care.”

“Go for it,” said Maya, rolling her eyes. “I got a grill to man and a brother who’s been bugging me about undercooked burgers.”

“I heard that,” said Aaron with a bemused look.

“Good!” she quipped. “Now, stop using your ears and put those grilling skills to use. You’re the one who brags he can cook the perfect burger blindfolded. Either prove it or join your buddies in the bouncy house.”

Aaron shook his head and joined his sister at the grill, but not before shooting Aden another knowing glance. Layla’s presence had already had such a significant impact. The last thing he wanted anyone to do was rub it in. Aden was tempted, but preferred to just raise his half-empty bottle of beer and smile.

That smile got wider as Layla joined him, quickly pulling him into a light embrace under the midday sun. She also threw in a peck on the cheek for all to see. It wasn’t much, but a peck from her gesture from her was akin to multiple kisses from a dozen angels. Just holding her in his arms, watching as others enjoyed the barbecue festivities, was enough to make any season feel like spring.

Then, once Aaron joined Maya at the grill and became immersed in his work, Layla leaned in closer and whispered something into his ear.

“I’m not wearing any panties right now,” she said in a deep, sensual voice that stood in stark contrast to the tone she’d used earlier.

Aden almost spit up his beer. That was the part of Layla Larone’s love that few others experienced, let alone appreciated. She didn’t show it to just anyone, but when she did, it had an impact.

“I wore them when we arrived,” she added. “I ditched them when I saw help that contractor fix the bouncy house. You know damn well watching you fix things makes me wet.”

“Jeez, Layla,” Aden said, “I wish I’d remembered that before I put on my tightest pair of jeans this morning.”

“Good think I’m also charitable when I’m horny.”

Most of the time, charity meant Layla volunteering at the soup kitchen, which she did at least twice a month. On some rare, yet special occasions, it meant purposefully rubbing her thigh up against his groin, diverting a good share of his blood to his lower body.

Aden had to hide his reaction, his grin becoming more awkward as he embraced his fiancé closer, if only to hide what she was doing in broad daylight. That did little to dissuade her. She just kept rubbing up against him, her every touch making her intentions clear and they were not those of a sweet, innocent woman.

“Um…how is that helping?” he asked his still-smiling fiancé.

“You mean besides getting your dick hard?” Layla replied curtly.

“That part was implied, I hope,” Aden said sheepishly.

She laughed, but the look in her eye became more devious. It was subtle, but not to him. She knew as well as him that he was one of the select few individuals who knew about her less-than-angelic sight.

“It’s simple logistics,” she said to him. “If your dick gets hard, that means you’re horny too. If you’re horny, then you’ll be more amenable to certain requests from your fiancé.”

“Requests? Like what?” Aden asked, as though he didn’t already know.

“One that involves making use of that guest room Aaron just renovated…the one that’s upstairs, away from prying eyes, and well-insulated from noise.”

There it was, again. The subtlety was gone. The public persona that Layla Larone so eagerly shared with others faded, making way for a much naughtier and kinkier side.

It was a well-kept secret that few ever thought to entertain. Layla was a dirty, sex-crazed freak. She looked for any excuse to ditch her panties and get frisky, often outside the confines of a locked bedroom. She also liked to talk dirty. However, her brand of sensual rhetoric often went blunt requests. In many respects, it reflected the unique way in which she shared herself with her lovers.

“That room only has mattress and a dresser,” Aden pointed out, as though that would dissuade her.

“That’s more than enough for some midday fucking,” Layla said.

“In that case, how subtle do you want to be this time?”

“Leave that to me!”

In an instant, the sweet persona everyone knew took over briefly and she took his hand in hers. With an overly chipper demeanor, she turned back towards Aaron and Maya.

“We’ll be right back!” she said casually. “I need to call my mom about some wedding plans. Aden needs to be there if he doesn’t want her going cheap on the cake.”

“Do what you need to do, love birds,” said Maya, who barely looked away from the grill.

“Just tell her not to skimp on the meat,” added Aaron. “There’s no way I’m working with prepackaged frozen shit!”

“I’ll remind her,” said Aden, trying hard to match his love’s demeanor.

He didn’t sound the least bit convincing. He still sounded like a man with a growing boner in his pants and a beautiful woman with no panties. Neither Aaron nor Maya seemed to notice, though. They were too caught up in grilling while everyone else was having fun at the tables and bouncy house. They had no idea what was about to unfold nearby.

That only encouraged Layla, whose kinky persona took over once more. Grabbing his wrist, she led him into the house through the basement. From there, they rushed up the stairs together, the music and laughter from outside fading fast. Along the way, as Aden followed behind her, his adventurous fiancé found a new way to tempt them.

Just as they reached the top of the steps, she lifted her sun dress up just enough to see under. Sure enough, Aden saw that she hadn’t been lying. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

“No underwear at a backyard barbecue,” he commented. “It must really be spring.”

“It still isn’t official, yet,” Layla replied seductively. “Not until I’ve tasted your cock with my lips and pussy.”

“And you want to make it official now?”

“Fuck yes!” she said without hesitation.

As if to prove it, she urged him to move faster, pulling on his arm and guiding him up the last round of stairs. Now on the top floor of Aaron’s suburban house, they slipped into the guest bedroom halfway down the hall. As soon as they were inside, Layla kicked the door shut and pulled him into another embrace. However, it was very different from the one they’d shared moments ago in front of other onlookers.

She faced him and he faced her, an intense look in her eye that stood in stark contrast to the sweet aura she usually projected. She snaked his arms around his neck while he slipped his around her waist, walking with her to the undersized bed in the center of the room that didn’t even have any sheets on it.

“Look me in the eye, Aden,” Layla said intently. “Tell me what I am.”

“I think…you’re an incredible woman,” Aden said, already breathless within her grasp. “You’re willing to rent a bounce house for children on the same day you’re willing to fuck your fiancé in someone else’s house.”

“Is that all?” she asked, clearly not content with his assessment.

“You’ve also got a dirty mouth that you hide so fucking well,” he went on. “You’ll talk about treating sick children one minute and how wet your pussy is the next.”

“Is that all?” she repeated, sounding more impatient with every passing second.

“You’re also the kind of woman who loves having a hidden kinky side. You get a genuine kick out of being so sweet in public, but so wild in private. You’ll smile for the cameras. Then, you’ll whisper into my ear how much you love taking it up the ass in the shower.”

“Is…that…all?” she asked, almost demanding a specific answer at that point.

Her grip on him intensified. She also rubbed her thigh up against his crotch with more force, causing him to wince slightly as his pants grew even tighter. Layla wasn’t making it easy on him, but he understood better than most that loving her wasn’t just a blessing. It was a challenge.

“You’re also a dirty fucking slut who loves to get fucked and freely admits it with as much profanity as possible,” Aden finally said.

“You’re goddamn right!” Layla replied, already sounding like an animal in heat.

She hungrily kissed his lips, shoving her tongue into his mouth and guiding him closer to the bed. Still as impatient as ever, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head. Then, just as they reached the foot of the bed, she pushed aside the straps of her summer dress and let it fall to the floor, revealing her fully-naked body to him.

“My God, Layla,” Aden gasped upon feeling her naked skin touch his. “You ditched the bra too?”

“Are you really that surprised?” she quipped. “You think a dirty fucking slut would wear a bra on a warm spring day with her stud fiancé?”

When she put it like that, it almost seemed absurd. Aden didn’t bother overthinking it. There was a naked Layla Larone standing before him and if she wanted to channel her naughty side, who was he to stop her?

Passion and desire took over, his own naughty side emerging from its depths. He kissed her hard, just like she liked it, which meant plenty of force and tongue. He also felt up the curves of her naked body, marveling at her smooth skin, ample breasts, and perfectly-round ass. He wasn’t gentle or soft, either. He knew Layla didn’t like it that way. He grasped and groped his way around her naked body, further intensifying her desire while furthering her own.

He could still tell she was much hornier than him. At one point, he slipped his hand between her legs and grazed his fingers up the moist slit of her pussy. It was already fully engorged. Seeing him fix that bouncy house really had gotten her horny. Men who worked, sweated, and stayed in shape over the winter were a real turn-on for her and he took pride in being that kind of man.

“Feel my tits. Feel my butt. Touch my pussy,” she gasped in between kissing. “You’re just making me hungry for your big, hard cock!”

It sounded like something right out of a porno, but Layla’s sexual intensity was far greater than any porn star. Aden learned that on their second date and she just loved reminding him.

While he thoroughly explored her naked body, she’d been hard at work, undoing his belt and loosening his pants. That hadn’t been easy, thanks to the throbbing erection she’d given him, courtesy of those dirty words she’d shared. She still managed to get him off along with his underwear. As soon as his cock popped free, the kinky side of Layla took over once more.

“Sit down,” she ordered. “I’m going to suck your dick and I’m going to suck it good!”

“You always do, my slut fiancé,” Aden said, throwing in some dirty talk of his own.

Encouraged and very much aroused, he offered no resistance as his lover plopped him down on the bed. Now sitting on the edge with his legs draped over the side, his horny fiancé dropped to her knees, doing a seductive dance of sorts, as if to show off just how naughty she could be.

“I’ve always been a good girl with naughty proclivities,” she said seductively. “I’ve always behaved myself when I had to…done all the things I was supposed to. But when the lights go off and the mood sets in, another side of me takes over…one who doesn’t mind getting naked, sucking dick, and letting her lover know what she likes.”

“Good thing I fell in love with both sides,” he remarked.

“Yes…very fucking good.”

That lurid look in her eye never waned as she knelt down, pushed his legs apart, and licked her lips in anticipation. Aden, knowing little could stop Layla when her naughty side took over, leaned back on his arms and let her go to work.

With no hesitation whatsoever, she took the proverbial plunge and devoured his cock, taking almost his entire length into her mouth. Aden let out a deep moan, savoring the feeling of her lips, tongues, and throat surrounding his manhood. Once again, Layla astonished him with her deep-throating skills. He swore she’d been born without a gag reflex.

She’d also been born without restraint when it came to sexual hang-ups. After getting that initial taste of his manly flesh, she began sucking and slurping with lustful glee. The way she went about it was more akin to a sex-crazed whore than a pure-hearted angel.

“Ohhh fuck!” Aden grunted. “So good…you suck dick so good, Layla.”

That crude, but accurate assessment encouraged her even more. In addition to having a dirty mouth, herself, she loved it when others shared in the vulgar spirit. Having had a father and uncle who served in the army, Aden had no trouble mixing profanity with passion.

He muttered more strings of lurid rhetoric as his future wife sucked his dick, watching with awe as her head bobbed up and down in accord with each motion. She was so thorough and intense, as though she were gorging on her favorite treat. It was not the technique of a woman who gave oral sex just because her lover enjoyed it. It was very much the demeanor of a woman who genuinely loved sucking dick, being sexy, and having fun in her own special way.

“Mmm…good dick,” Layla said with muffled words. “So fucking good. Making me…so fucking wet.”

She stepped up the pace of her sucking, so much so that saliva dripped messily down his shaft. She didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. She just kept at it, using one had to squeeze the base of his shaft and the other to finger her pussy. She was descending into that deep, primal mindset where higher thought ceased and basic desires reigned supreme.

Aden quickly joined her in that daze. His arms barely supported him as his manhood throbbed with arousal. Sharp sensations of bliss coursed through his body, stirring a potent blend of love and lust. Layla might have been his future wife, destined to bear his children. At that moment, though, she was just a horny bitch who needed to get fucked.

“This dick…need more of it,” Layla said, practically seething with desire as she ceased her sucking. “Please, Aden…fuck me.”

“Is that what you want?” Aden asked her, as though he had a shred of doubt.

“Yes!” she said desperately. “Please…fill me with your cock. Hump me like the whore I am!”

“Such a dirty, filthy mouth,” he laughed in response. “If that’s how much future wife is going to talk, then that’s how I’m going to fuck her!”

In that moment, Aden became a man that few would recognize outside an intimate setting. He often carried himself with such calm reserve, always staying focused and in control of himself. Few ever saw him cut loose and unleash his passions. Layla was one of the select few and the only who could inspire the full extent of his passions.

Like a man possessed, he grabbed his fiancé by the armed and pulled her up onto the bed. He then laid her down on the unmade bed, got on top of her, and hitched her legs over his shoulders. As soon as he felt the tip of his throbbing cock graze the moist folds of her wet entrance, he didn’t hesitate for a second. With a firm thrust of his hips, he entered Layla and began making love to her with the rough, heated fervor he knew she loved.

“Yes! Ooh fuck yes!” she cried out. “That’s it! Fuck me with that dick! Fuck me like a dirty skank!”

“Ohhh Layla,” was all Aden could get out.

Anything he moaned at that point was vastly muted by Layla’s profane dirty talk. No matter how many times he heard it, especially after seeing her act so sweet and kind in front of others, it inspired a special kind of passion. It affirmed, once again, just how special a woman she was. As such, she deserved whatever rough, dirty sexy she wanted.

Aden gladly and eagerly gave that to her, letting masculine instinct take over as he pumped his cock inside her like a well-oiled piston, working his hips and rocking his lover’s naked body with his. He wasn’t gentle or careful. That wasn’t how she liked it. He just hammered away, making sure the manly sinews of his body slithered seamlessly with her feminine flesh.

He even made sure she had room to show off that dirty mouth of hers, kissing down her neck and nibbling around her shoulder as their sex intensified. He knew how much Layla loved it. She loved being devoured by her lover, rather than treated like some pure flower. She’d told him how her previous lovers rarely dared to let loose and fuck her like she wanted. Aden had done more than just dare.

Every movement seemed to inspire another gasp.

Every plunge into her womanly depths evoked another vulgar proclamation of how much she loved to get fucked.

Every reaction, vulgar or not, reminded him why he’d fallen so madly in love with her.

“Layla…my love…my dirty, dirty lover,” he grunted.

“Yes! Oohhh fuck yes!” Layla moaned. “I’m such a dirty slut…a dirty, fucking slut! Keep fucking me like one! Keep…fucking me…oohhh fuck!”

She was about to climax. Aden could sense it and Layla didn’t hide it. The way she raked her nails down his back, arched her lower body, and curled her toes made it abundantly clear. The loud, orgasmic moans laced with profanity just helped reaffirm it.

“Come, my slutty fiancé. Come!” he said right into her ear.

His words were drowned out by more vulgar moans. He finally slowed the pace of their heated lovemaking, if only to give his future wife a moment to enjoy the ecstasy. It was another colorful kink for a woman few imagined could be kinky. It didn’t take much to bring Layla to orgasm. Just fucking her hard and letting her cuss like an unapologetic whore did the trick. There was no need for elaborate technique or setup. He just had to fuck her like she wanted to be fucked.

“You fuck me so good,” Layla said breathlessly.

“Of course, I do,” he told her confidently.

“Then please…let me return the favor.”

The grin on Aden’s face widened. He knew what that meant and for once, Layla didn’t need her dirty mouth to spell it out for him.

Following the passions that so defined their bawdy sex life, he withdrew from her briefly and repositioned their bodies. With burning urgency, he turned her over so that she was on her knees with her hands pressed up against the freshly-painted wall. Now facing that perfectly-shaped butt of hers, Aden licked his lips with the same lustful hunger that she’d shown before sucking his dick earlier. Still bearing a throbbing-hard cock, he got behind her and guided his flesh back into her.

However, instead of her pussy, he pressed the tip up against her ass. Then, with little warning or reservation, he thrust his hips forward and entered her anally.

“Oohhh Adan!” Layla gasped. “My ass…you’re fucking my ass!”

She said it with such glee, revealing to any who might have heard how she felt about anal sex. Nobody heard her so, as far as the rest of the world knew, Layla was still that sweet, innocent girl who never would’ve contemplated the idea. Aden was among the select few who knew how much she loved it. In fact, she loved it so much that she could enjoy it with little lube or preparation.

“So tight!” Aden grunted. “God, I love how good it feels!”

“Me too!” Layla moaned. “I love anal sex! I fucking love it!”

Encouraged and longing for his own release, Aden resumed his fervent humping. Grabbing hold of her waist, digging his knees and feet into the mattress, he hammered away into her flesh. Together, their bodies rocked, along with the bed, as he worked his member within her tight butt. He even threw in a few light swats, which always got a colorful reaction from Layla, complete with more profanity.

Aden barely heard any of those vulgar words, at that point. He was too focused on reaching his peak. He could feel it coming strong, his manly flesh burning hot with anticipation. He’d already worked up a light sweat, which seemed fitting in the muggy spring warmth. After all, the barbecue was supposed to celebrate the arrival of spring. He and Layla were just doing so in their own kinky way.

After a good round of rough sex, coupled with more sexy spankings, Aden felt himself approaching the threshold. He was almost certain that Layla came again at one point, but he was too lost in his own bliss to take note of it. He just humping and pumping away at his love’s ass, savoring her angelic beauty as much as her devious verbiage. She always did her part, bucking her hips and rocking her body in accord with his, building up towards that special feeling where lovemaking and hard fucking became the same thing.

Soon, Aden was ready to peak, all the ravenous, profanity-laced sex about to culminate. As he approached, he leaned over, transferred his grip to her swaying breasts, and whispered into his kinky lover’s ear.

“I’m coming, Layla,” he said in a low, heavily masculine tone. “I’m coming in your ass…my future wife.”

“Come, future husband,” Layla playfully replied. “Fill my ass with your cum!”

That last round of dirty talk helped send him over the edge. After a few more thorough motions, he achieved his climax. White hot sensations surged through his body. His expression tensed, along with almost every muscle in his face as he released his load into her depths. His dick throbbed and her inner muscles clenched, milking him for every last drop. It was an intense feeling, full of that special brand of intimacy that he and Layla had forged together.

It was not a typical intimacy, by any measure. It was also not an intimacy anyone would’ve believed. Layla was just too sweet and such passion seemed too dirty. That didn’t make it any less meaningful. If anything, that made it special.

“I love you…my dirty fucking fiancé,” Aden said as he withdrew from her, but kept her in his naked embrace.

“I love you too,” she replied, “my handsome fucking stud.”

“And I love how you manage that filthy mouth of yours,” he added with a coy grin.

“Ha! You think this is me managing it?” she scoffed. “If so, then you’re in for a real shock on our honeymoon!”

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