“The Handyman” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that was inspired by a broken furnace and a handyman that really saved the day. If you are a skilled handyman out there, please know that your sex appeal is grossly under-appreciated. I hope this story will convey that sentiment.

“Damn it! Of all the days for my furnace to break, why does it have to be today?” Delila Preston groaned as she paced restlessly.

She muttered more curses under her breath, hugging her shoulders to protect herself from the harsh winter cold. Looking outside, her windows covered in ice from the latest winter storm that passed through last night, she saw no relief in the dreary overcast. All she could do was put on her thickest pair of sweatpants, her only clean T-shirt, and a hoodie over top of it. She tried to keep moving, but that wasn’t easy in her undersized apartment. She needed real, tangible warmth and she needed it soon.

That need went beyond the weather. It wasn’t unreasonable to say that her life, as a whole, was as broken as her heater. Eight months ago, everything had been perfectly functional. Delila was engaged to her high-school sweetheart, she had a good job at marketing firm, and she lived in a comfortable home not far from her childhood neighborhood.

Then, everything broke. Delila found out her fiancé had been cheating on her. She lost her job when her boss got arrested for an embezzlement scandal, forcing her to take a lower-paying job over 40 miles away from her old home. She couldn’t even move back home because her parents were already caring for her younger brother, who’d just come back from serving in the military and required extra care because of the wounds he suffered. That meant moving into the cheapest, most cramped apartment she could find.

Her heater breaking was just the latest in a long string of things that had gone horribly wrong in her life.

“The coldest day of the year on top of the worst year of my adult life,” Delila muttered as she gazed out the window. “I can get someone to fix my heater, but how the hell do I go about fixing everything else at this point?”

As she wondered that daunting prospect, she checked her watch. Since she couldn’t afford a licensed repairman, she had to rely on help from a co-worker, Mia. She’d told him her brother’s best friend was a real handyman who just happened to owe her favor. She’d been texting him since she woke up and he was supposed to arrive at any minute.

Not knowing if her heater could even be fixed, Delila sighed to herself and planned on drinking plenty of hot tea for the rest of the weekend. For now, at least, curling up under multiple blankets in bed seemed like the only way to keep warm.

After a few more minutes of waiting, she heard a knock at her door.

“Hope this guy knows what he’s doing,” Delila said. “I need at least one thing in my life that isn’t broken.”

Still hugging her shoulders for warmth, she opened the door to greet the hopeful handyman. The figure she saw, however, caught her by surprise.

“Hi! You must be Delila,” a man greeted. “I’m Josh Maven. I’m here to fix your heater.”

“Yes, uh…please, come in,” Delila said.

Her co-worker hadn’t told her much about her brother’s friend. She only said he was good at fixing things. Now, Delila wished she had asked more questions because she never would’ve guessed he would’ve been so cute.

“Damn, it’s cold out!” Josh said as he entered and took off his jacket. “This is a hell of a day for your heater to break.”

“Yeah…hell of a day indeed,” Delila replied.

“If this place is anything like my brother’s old apartment, I should be able to fix it. I can’t tell you how many times he blew that thing out so he could lounge around in his underwear.”

“I hope it’s not that bad.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

Josh sounded way too energetic for a man doing someone else a favor. It was the complete antithesis of her morbid mood. Then, as he removed his jacket, she saw him wearing a tight-fitting short-sleeved shirt that showed off bulging muscles that perfectly complemented his burly complexion. Maybe it was just a result of her being so lonely after her fiancé broke up with her, but such a sight made parts of her body warmer by default.

As he set his jacket aside, he took the tool box he’d brought with him and carried it over to the utility closet that stood right next to her bathroom. She’d told her co-worker how her apartment was set up. Josh seemed familiar with it and wasted no time in getting to work. That kind of initiative already set him apart from most of the men she’d known.

“So Mia says you’re quite the handyman,” she said, trying not to get too smitten with a guy she’d just met.

“She only said that because I fixed her car for $100 after some other mechanic said it would cost $1500,” Josh replied.

“Well, knowing what we make in a week, I can see why she’d feel that way.”

“To be fair, the mechanic was an asshole who isn’t in business anymore,” Josh said, “and it was just a filthy spark plug. I’m just a contractor by trade, but even I know how basic machines work. Nobody should get gouged like that just to fix something that simple.”

“If only the world were that fair,” Delila said with a smile.

“If only,” Josh said, smiling back.

Now, she was blushing. Her efforts to distract herself from how cute Josh was did the opposite. Her face was almost as warm as her inner thighs. That might have been a nice way to cope with the cold weather, but it made for an awkward situation. Then again, that was a step up from a broken situation.

Rather than risk heating up other parts of her body, she fell silent and let Josh get to work. She started pacing again as he propped the door open and turned on the light inside the utility room. In just a T-shirt and dirty jeans, he retrieved some tools and went to work. Delila didn’t pay too much attention, if only because seeing him on his back gave her too many lurid thoughts. She also sought to stay out of his way so that he could work without some broken woman like her bothering him.

“I’ve seen these models before,” he said as he took off the panels and started tinkering. “They’re old, but they’re usually reliable. When did it stop working?”

“About three days ago,” Delila answered, trying to sound casual. “I don’t know what happened. One day, I just came home from the office and it wasn’t on.”

“Did it ever make any noises? Did it ever start smelling funny?”

“Nope. I tried adjusting the thermostat. I tried calling the building manager, as well.”

“And what did he say?” Josh asked.

“That he’ll get back to me in a few hours. That was two days ago. I’ve been getting his voicemail ever since.”

That’s never a good sign.”

“Yeah, I figured that when the neighbor told me he tends to take his time with repair,” Delila said, rolling her eyes. “It’s his way of telling us to call a goddamn repair man and pay for it ourselves.”

“In other words he’s inept, lazy, cheap, or all three,” Josh said with a chuckle.

“Trust me. It’s all three,” Delila said, laughing as well.

It felt good to laugh. In fact, it felt better than it should have and not just because she hadn’t had much to laugh about in months. Just being around someone who wasn’t as broken as her felt refreshing. Him being an attractive man on top of that was just a bonus…a very appealing bonus.

Delila stopped pacing for a moment and turned back towards Josh. He was peering into an open panel of electronics and shining a flashlight into it. She could smell the dust and grime from across the room. It didn’t seem to bother him, though. That just made him more attractive in her eyes. The idea that a man could get his hands dirty and not care had a lot of appeal.

“It doesn’t look like anything is burnt out or damaged,” he said. “If it wasn’t making noise, then I doubt any of the moving parts are the problem. That’s a good thing because it means it must be something minor.”

“I hope so,” Delila said, “but you should know that lately, the line between minor and catastrophic hasn’t been very clear for things in my world.”

“You have my sympathy,” Josh said. “I’m tempted to ask questions, but I’ll resist for the sake of your heater.”

“I don’t mind if you give into a little temptation,” she said under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked, looking up from his work briefly.

“Nothing!” she said quickly. “I just said…I appreciate your help.”

He cast her a bemused grin. He clearly didn’t believe her. Delila had always been a terrible liar, especially in the presence of attractive men. Her ex-fiance didn’t like that for some reason. Josh didn’t seem to mind at all. That just made her blush even more.

“I have a theory,” Josh said as he went back to work. “If I’m right, then the only thing you need to fix your heater is a part that cost less than $15.”

“I hope it’s right,” said Delila, “but I’m not sure the universe will allow it at this point.”

“The wires seem to be working. It’s just the thermocouple that’s busted. As it just so happens, I have a few spares from a job I did a couple weeks ago. I’ll replace it and see if that does the trick.”

“Do what you have to do, Josh. If you can fix this, then that’ll be the first broken thing in my life to get fixed in months.”

“Then, I better be right.”

He sounded oddly determined, as though he’d made it his mission to make her less miserable. For a handyman she wasn’t even paying, it just made him even more attractive.

Delila silent again and let him work, breaking out more tools and getting his hands even dirtier. She found herself pacing once more, but not to keep warm. She kept glancing back towards Josh and then at the window. While her body had reacted strongly to the presence of an attractive man, her mind still struggled to catch up. By letting herself think beyond the activity in certain parts of her body, she came to a few realizations.

Everything in her life felt broken, but she hadn’t done a lot to fix it. She hadn’t gotten her hands dirty like Josh was with her heater. She just lamented and fumed about it. She knew how bad things had gotten, but didn’t make an effort to make things better. It put the past eight months in a new light.

“I need to start fixing my own shit,” she said under her breath. “I can’t just assume things will fix themselves anymore.”

Delila sighed again and shook her head. It was a harsh, but overdue realization. It meant she would have to make some major changes that included bold decisions.

As she contemplated what that might entail, she heard a welcome sound. The heater had turned on. It was working again.

“Success!” Josh proclaimed. “It was the thermocouple. Your heater is officially fixed, Delila.”

Those words almost sounded alien, the idea of something in her life getting fixed. They still had a profound effect.

“It’s working again,” she said with a beaming smile. “I can already feel it.”

“See? It was something minor,” Josh said as he closed the panel and got up from the floor. “Things can be fixed if you know what to tweak.”

“Yes,” she said distantly, “I suppose they can.”

She began stopped pacing and stood under one of the heating vents. She could already feel the warm air blowing into the room, providing some badly-needed warmth after several cold nights. Already, the heavy sweatshirt she’d been wearing felt unnecessary. As if to celebrate having something fixed, she took it off and even kicked off her slippers.

“It’s actually getting warm in here again,” Delila said. “I’ll be able to sleep without hiding under three blankets tonight.”

“It’s a good thing too. It’s supposed to get below zero tonight,” said Josh as he packed up some of his tools.

“And it’s all thanks to you,” she added. “You…a handyman who managed to fix something in my life.”

Delila didn’t intend for those words to come off so dramatically, but it was too late. Josh didn’t seem to mind, either. He just smiled back at her, still in those dirty clothes that showed off his manly physique. He was already attractive. Now, after fixing her heater, he was the sexiest human being in the world in her eyes.

As if to acknowledge that feeling, Delila dared to be a little bolder. She shed her sweatpants like she had her slippers and sweatshirt. It wasn’t lost on her that doing so left her in only a T-shirt and a pair of panties. It definitely got Josh’s attention, though.

“Um…what are you doing, Delila?” he asked with a wry grin.

“What does it look like?” she said playfully. “I’m enjoying the benefits of a functioning heater.”

“So when it’s working, you always lounge around in your underwear?” Josh questioned.

“Not always,” she replied, “but when I’m in a certain mood or have a good reason…”

Her words trailed off. Josh, his hands still dirty and his shirt stained with dust, just stood before her in a surprised daze. However, a grin never left his face. He clearly liked seeing her with minimal clothing. That assured her he would love seeing her in no clothing at all.

“Delila,” he said, sounding awkward, yet curious, “if this is your way of thanking me, you should know that’s not necessary.”

“I know it’s not,” she said as she casually approached, sensually swaying her hips with every step.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but I’d rather not owe Mia more favors.”

“Mia doesn’t have to know. No one else has to know. I doubt they’d believe you if you told them because what I’m about to do is a complete break in character.”

She sounded like an entirely different woman, one who wasn’t just relieved that her heater was working again. The same woman who’d been so broken when the day began had stepped aside. A newer, bolder Delila Preston took her place.

Josh seemed fond of that new Delila already. He offered no resistance as she walked up to him, slipped her arms around his neck, and embraced him in a way that let their clothed bodies touch. She even made it a point to rub her thigh up against his groin, if only to get his blood flowing in the right direction. He reacted favorably, those dirty hands of his slipping around her waist.

“Josh, you don’t know me very well,” she said to him, “and trust me. Your timing couldn’t be better.”

“I already believe that,” he said, his hands trembling as he felt up her womanly curves.

“Eight months ago, I was a very different woman. I was surrounded by good circumstances – good family, good friends, and even an ex-fiancé.”

Ex-fiancé?”

“Yes, the ex indicating that something broke…something big. Everything had always been so good. I never had to fix anything. It all just worked itself out. I never thought much of it, but then when just one thing broke…”

She stopped herself as the memories came rushing back. It happened over the course of many months, but it felt like one long breakdown. Her fiancé cheated on her. She lost her job. Her brother has to live at home with their parents while he recovered from his military service. Her heater breaking was just part of that breakdown. Josh fixing it had an impact that went beyond the temperature in her apartment.

“When you come from that world, it doesn’t take much,” Delila went on. “Everything starts snowballing. Nothing works anymore. You don’t know how to fix anything because you’ve never had to. Things just fixed themselves.”

“So…what are you looking to fix now?” Josh said in a curious tone. “Is something other than your heater broken? Because you might need a different handyman for that.”

“Believe me. I’m looking at the best handyman in the world right now. He fixed my heater. If he can do that, then he can definitely help me fix another part of my life that won’t fix itself.”

With focused energy, coupled with the rising temperature in her apartment, Delila leaned in and kissed the burly man who’d gotten a small part of her life working again. He eagerly kissed back, her touch and her gestures drawing him into her impassioned state. She didn’t care that his face was unshaven and his hair was messy. If anything, that turned her on even more.

“Delila,” Josh gasped. “You kiss…like someone who needs more than a working heater.”

“You want to help me fix that too?” she said seductively. “If so, you’re going to need another tool.”

She rubbed her thigh up against his crotch a little harder. Already, she felt a hardness forming in his pants. The grin on his face widened. The man must have had a fetish for broken things and broken people.

“Well, I wouldn’t be much of a handyman if I didn’t come equipped for any job now, would I?” Josh said.

“No. You wouldn’t,” Delila said curtly.

“And just so you know, I didn’t shower this morning and I worked all day yesterday. My last two girlfriends did not like being this intimate with a guy who enjoys working in dirty places.”

“With all due respect to your ex-girlfriends, they’re assholes. A man who enjoys working in dirty places deserves a special kind of intimacy!”

Making clear that his disheveled state was a turn-on, she kissed him again and pressed her body up against his. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hands snuck under his shirt, not at all dissuaded by the dust and grime from the floor. If he were bolder with his hands, he would’ve felt how wet she was between her legs. He was too professional for that, but she intended to communicate that desire in other more obvious ways.

The kissing quickly intensified, morphing into full-fledged foreplay. She pawed his chest while he felt up her womanly curves. As their lips and tongues twirled, she led him over to the living room in which she’d been pacing moments ago. Along the way, they shed their ruffled clothes. She pulled his shirt off over his head and undid his pants. While he stumbled to get them off, she removed her t-shirt, revealing that she hadn’t been wearing a bra.

“Wow,” Josh said as he got an eyeful of her breasts. “You have beautiful tits.”

“Tits that need those skilled hands of yours,” she teased.

Delila helped him out of his pants, allowing him to kick off his shoes and socks in the process. She also got his boxers off too, freeing his semi-hard manhood that she had done so much to stimulate. In his full glory, she saw very unkempt, but very manly figure. The fact that he’d used that figure to fix her heater just made her wetter between the legs.

After he kicked aside his pants, they arrived at her couch. Before pulling him into another embrace, she slipped out of her panties. Now fully nude, she guided him onto her couch where they turned their basic foreplay into a heated make-out session.

Showing more initiative than she’d ever shown with her ex-fiancé, she pinned him down and got on top of him, allowing their naked flesh to get acquainted. Hands roamed freely and lips twirled passionately. It led to a state of heated arousal, which felt extra special on such a cold winter day.

By then, her fixed heater had done plenty to warm up her apartment. However, it couldn’t hurt to make some heat of their own.

“Mmm…Josh,” Delila purred as she ran her fingers over his bearded complexion. “It’s still a little cold in here.”

“It is,” Josh said with his hands on her butt as he lay under her. “Want me to take another look at the heater?”

“You could,” she said playfully, “or you could just make hot, sweaty love to me right here on this couch.”

“Well, the handyman in me is tempted to look at the machine.”

“Need me to tempt you any more to convince you?”

“Nope! I already know what needs fixing here.”

With the same energy and spirit he’d shown while fixing her heater, Josh rolled her over on the couch so that she was on her back with her head against the arm. He then hitched one leg around his waist and let the other drape over the edge as he guided his manhood towards her wet entrance. Once in position, he entered her with ease and her womanly flesh embraced him.

“Ooh Josh!” Delila moaned. “My…my sexy handyman!”

“Your handyman…I like that!” Josh said gleefully.

With a real workman’s attitude, he went to work making love to her as only a skilled handyman could. He was a careful and thorough as he’d been with her heater, delivering every thrust as though it were a specific tweak. It set every pleasure-based nerve in her lower body ablaze. She let out loud moans that reverberated throughout her cramped apartment, eagerly supplanting his efforts with passionate gestures of her own.

Her world rocked and so did the couch. His manly sinews grazed perfectly against her feminine curves. It was so hot that they actually worked up a sweat, which was no easy feat in an apartment that had been without a functioning heater for three days. She and Josh still did it, though. Something about that made it even more satisfying.

“Josh! Oh Josh!” she moaned. “So hot! So hard! Oohhh I’m going to come!”

Such fervent, pleasurable lovemaking sent Delila to the brink or orgasm faster than she’d thought possible. Either her sex drive had been broken too or Josh was just more thorough than her ex-fiancé had ever dared to be. She chose to believe it was a nice bonus for a skilled handyman.

When her climax hit, Delila dug her nails into her sexy handyman’s shoulders and threw her head back in a spectacle of ecstasy. She didn’t care that she moaned so loud that she probably startled her neighbor’s dog. She had a working heater and a skilled lover. That was worth celebrating.

“Delila,” Josh gasped. “You…are amazing.”

“I can also…be handy…too,” she said breathlessly.

Making sure she wasn’t the only one putting in the effort, she kissed Josh again and pulled him into another make-out session. She didn’t dare stop their sex at just one orgasm. She barely took time to soak it all in, opting instead to channel her handyman’s dedicated spirit.

With that spirit, their flesh remained united. Their bodies shifted wildly around the couch as his manhood slithered sensually in the depths of her womanhood. Eventually, he ended up in a sitting position with her straddling his hips in an upright position, riding him extra hard. It quickly led to another orgasm for her, but she made a conscious effort to ensure he got his too. When it finally came, expression tensed and his grip on her butt tightened for the final push.

“Oohhh Delila! I…I’m close!” he grunted.

“Yes, my handyman,” she moaned. “Come with me!”

In a final push, she rode him harder, gyrating her hips with a vigor she’d never attempted in her most intimate moments. It helped send Josh over the edge. His grip on her hips tightened, his face contorted, and his manhood throbbed inside her in accord with his release. Seeing him writhe in ecstasy helped her achieve another peak as well, allowing their juices to mix in an intimate heat.

“I think…we’re fixed,” she panted.

“Fixed…yeah,” Josh said breathlessly.

It made for a hot, passionate moment on a cold dreary, day. With her heater going strong, they worked up quite a sweat. The movement ceased and Delila just clung to her handyman, letting him savor his peak. When it passed, she rose up off his member and collapsed with him on the couch.

For a moment, they just laid there in silence, still naked and dazed. The only noise came from the heater, which felt fitting. When it broke, it felt like the last straw for Delila. Now that it had been fixed, thanks to her handsome handyman, it felt like she just took the first step towards fixing her life.

“Hey Josh,” she said, still curled up in his arms.

“Yes, Delila?” he replied, now resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Thanks for fixing my heater.”

“You’re welcome,” he laughed, “and by heater, you mean your actual heater, right?”

“You know what I mean,” she said, laughing as well.

“Just checking,” he said.

“I also meant in general,” she said, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze. “This morning, everything in my life was broken. I only ever dealt with it by lamenting how broken it was. Now, after you helped fix just one thing, I feel like I’m ready to fix even more.”

“Glad I could help,” he said with another beaming grin. “After all, that’s what good handymen do!”

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Why “F Is For Family” Is The Perfect Satire Of The American Dream

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What would you say about a man who constantly yells, curses like a sailor on crack, and constantly threatens to put his kids through a wall? On the surface, it sounds like this guy has some serious anger issues. You would probably suspect there’s something wrong with him and that he needs help from a competent therapist.

Then, after you find out that man’s name is Frank Murphy from the animated show, “F is for Family,” you quickly realize that even the best therapist in the world couldn’t do squat for this man. His anger, cursing, and threats of intentional property damage are entirely understandable. In fact, he would need a therapist if he didn’t exhibit some level of anger.

That’s because Frank Murphy, along with every other major theme in “F is for Family,” is the personification of the disillusion of the American Dream. Take everything you think you know about what it means to work hard, get ahead, and achieve your goals in life. Then, kick it in the gut, spit on it, and throw it through a brick wall. That’s Frank Murphy’s life. That’s what “F is for Family” is all about.

I only recently discovered this show while browsing Netflix and I’m glad I did. “F is for Family” is one of those shows that takes an overdone concept, like a dysfunctional cartoon family, and injects it with some overdue nuance. This isn’t a show about a bumbling dad, a nagging mom, or mischievous kids. The issues and themes in “F is for Family” feel genuinely relevant to the current state of the world.

For a show that takes place in the 1970s, that’s quite an accomplishment. At the same time, it makes sense for this show to take place during that particular time period in America because that’s when the hopes, dreams, and optimism of the post-World War II economic boom began to falter. They just faltered a lot faster for Frank Murphy and his family.

In many respects, Frank’s short-tempered persona is a byproduct of that decline. Throughout the show, it’s clear that Frank underwent a significant transformation. He wasn’t always this rage-filled working stiff who jumps at any chance to cuss out anyone in close proximity. He was once an upbeat, optimistic man who reflected the spirit of his time and his country. This is even reflected in the show’s opening theme.

He starts off as an idealistic youth. Born in 1931, he enters adulthood just as his country returns victorious from World War II. Like others before him, he serves his country after getting drafted in the Korean War. He returns home somewhat scarred, but still optimistic about his future. In 1958, he has dreams of flying airplanes and marrying Sue, a young woman in college at the time.

By all accounts, Frank plays by the rules. He works hard and carries out his duty as well as anyone can expect. He’s not some thick-headed dope like Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin. He’s also not some misanthropic underachiever like Al Bundy. He can speak in complete sentences, form coherent thoughts, and demonstrate an average level of competence.

He is, for the most part, an appropriate representation of a working class man trying to provide for his family. The problem, and the frequent source of his anger, is that his efforts often go unrewarded and unappreciated. In some cases, he gets completely screwed over, both by forces beyond his control and by unexpected consequences from his behavior.

In the first season, he works hard and sucks up to his asshole boss, Lance Dunbarton, to get a promotion at the airport he works at as a baggage handler. He even manages to avert a strike on Christmas Eve. Rather than get rewarded for this effort, he gets fired.

In the second season, he gets a chance to return to work, but the way he confronts his former supervisor, Bob Pogo, ends up making his situation worse.

Along the way, Frank also attempts to deal with the constant dysfunction of his family, which includes a rebellious teenage son, a wimpy pre-teen son who gets bullied at every turn, and a young daughter who refuses to conform to traditional gender norms. On top of all that, his wife is dissatisfied with just being a housewife and her efforts to achieve her own dreams cause plenty of marital strife.

At every level, Frank Murphy’s life is not the at all consistent with what the American dream had promised. Instead of the white picket fence with a content wife and well-behaved kids, his life is a constantly-devolving mess. No matter how hard he works or how much he plays by the rules, nothing seems to improve. Things only ever get more frustrating. After only a few episodes, it’s easy to understand why Frank is so angry.

To some extent, Frank Murphy is a fitting personification of Murphy’s Law. That’s not to say that everything goes wrong for him all the time, but through three eventful seasons, his attempts to improve his lot in life never works out. For every step forward he takes, he suffers a major setback.

He finally gets his job back at the airport where he hopes to pursue his dream as a pilot. Then, he gets his wife pregnant and they have to put their dreams on hold again.

He tries to improve things with Sue by taking his wife out for a romantic evening on their anniversary, but ends up getting into a major fight that makes everything worse.

Even his family isn’t immune to this regressive trap. While Frank struggles to find a stable job, Sue attempts to enter the working world, only to have her dreams crushed when the company she works for steals her invention. On top of that, she works in an office where she’s constantly belittled, harassed, and demeaned by co-workers whose conduct makes Don Draper look like a hippie.

His rebellious son also has dreams of becoming a rock star, but ends up getting kicked out of his band after a breakdown involving his drug-loving neighbor’s busty girlfriend. In season 3, he tries to reinvent himself and he tries to find a sense of belonging with a new group of friends. The end result is him getting arrested and spending a night in jail.

His youngest son, Bill Murphy, learns these harsh lessons even earlier than his father. He also tries to work hard and play by the rules. He tries to stand up for himself and confront the bully who torments him. Like his father, though, he ends up making things worse. I won’t get too deep into spoilers, but I will note that there’s some heavy arson and awkward boners involved.

Even his brainy daughter, Maureen, isn’t immune from it. Being a young girl in the early 1970s, her dreams are limited. Even when she aims low, like winning a ring toss contest on kids show, it still fails and through no fault of her own. Like her parents and brothers, the world seems determined to deny her any semblance of success.

If the essence of satire is to offer scathing criticism of a particular social construct, as those who edit Wikipedia imply, then “F is for Family” is a direct attack on the ideals and assumptions we associate with the American Dream. It never gets overly-nihilistic like “Rick and Morty” or “Bojack Horseman.” With every episode and sub-plot, it chips away at the foundation on which that dream is built.

It’s established throughout the show Frank and Sue were both in a position to achieve that dream. They were on a promising path with Sue being in college and Frank wanting to become a pilot. Even when they faced a major obstacle, namely Sue getting pregnant, they tried to do the right thing. They sacrificed for each other and their family.

That’s NOT red paint.

In any other narrative, their responsible behavior would be rewarded. By the standards of the American Dream, they did the right thing. They got married and tried to provide for their family. However, despite those sacrifices, they’re repeatedly denied their dreams. At the end of the day, doing the right thing and playing by the rules just doesn’t cut it.

Frank watches as his obese, slob of a boss screws him over on Christmas Eve. Sue watches as the company that made her so miserable steals her idea and profits from it. Their kids watch as the world around them rewards and punishes those who don’t deserve it. The only ones who ever seem to benefit are those strong enough to skirt the rules or well-connected enough to bend them.

In that context, it’s fitting that “F is for Family” takes place in the 1970s. That marked the end of the post-World War II economic boom and the beginning of major economic decline from which working class people never recovered. The well-paying, blue-collar jobs that once allowed a man like Frank Murphy to support his family are long gone thanks to the rise of automation and globalization.

While the show never dives too deep into the complexities of this decline, it provides a great deal of crude tongue-in-cheek humor that reveals just how flawed the American Dream had become at that point. There are not-too-subtle jokes about women, minorities, family life, politics, and the media that highlight just how flawed the system is. Frank Murphy is just the guy who gets screwed more than most.

In the end, though, that’s what makes “F is for Family” the ultimate satire for the idealized narrative we associate with the American Dream. It shows that this notion that a hard-working, self-sacrificing working man who plays by the rules will achieve his dream is nothing more than a bad fairy tale. Frank does everything society expects a working class man to do and rewards him with jack squat.

Given everything he endures, from abandoning his dreams of becoming a pilot so he could provide for a family that rarely shows him any gratitude, I’ll rephrase the question I asked earlier. What would you say about a man like Frank Murphy, who played by the rules and bought into the American Dream, only to see it screw him over at every turn? Can you really blame him for being so angry?

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Daily Sexy Musing: Hot Games and Goals

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Making love is inherently fun. Most people already understand that and I’ve done plenty to celebrate that in my novels and my sexy short stories. It’s one of those activities that, if done right, needs little nuance to be enjoyable. However, that doesn’t mean there’s no room for extra fun and games.

By that, I don’t mean role playing or BDSM. Those can be fun too, but they tend to be more elaborate. Not everyone can fully embrace a role or master the art of BDSM on a whim. When it comes to mixing things up a bit, there’s definitely a place for that. It doesn’t even have to be overly kinky. It just has to add a little extra incentive.

When I was in college, I knew a guy whose girlfriend played this game where he had to use his facial hair to stimulate certain parts of her body. Trust me. It’s sexier than it sounds. It gave my friend an excuse to get extra intimate with his girlfriend’s body and it gave his girlfriend a unique way to enjoy herself. They had a very health relationship, to say the least.

Maybe the games can be a bit more elaborate. Maybe there can be competition involved, one in which wins are measured by orgasms. In those games, nobody truly loses. That’s why I’m dedicating this Daily Sexy Musing to the spirit of the games that lovers play to add extra fun to their sex lives. Enjoy!

It’s a quiet night. We’re both in the mood. I have too much energy to sleep and too little desire to venture outside our bedroom. It would be easy to just channel it all into making love to you, rocking the bed and denting the walls with our passion. Then again, our love is special and no love becomes special by doing things the easy way.

You look at me with that playful glint.

You touch me like an unwrapped gift on Christmas morning.

You whisper into my ear what you want.

I get the message, loud and clear. Acting on our desires just isn’t enough. We may be adults, but we still enjoy having fun. Why not blend the playful with the sensual? Who knows what kind of feelings we’ll conjure?

There are no official rules, but plenty of unofficial guidelines. We clear our space of distractions and obstacles. We gather random assortments of toys that most don’t see as toys. From there, we let our imagination run wild. Before long, it gets dirty and sexy.

We play a game where we can only use one finger to touch.

We have a contest to see who can evoke the strongest desire with only words.

We dare each other to do strange and wonderful things.

We embrace the challenge and reap the rewards.

Laughter echoes alongside gasps of bliss. Maturity and propriety step aside while we let our inner child inspire our adult passions. We let it get messy and chaotic. We don’t keep score, but we know how to win. It’s a game within a game, but one that’s ours and ours alone.

The rules change, but the desired outcome doesn’t. Whether by playful fun or serious passion, the end result is the same. Our love takes a real, tangible form. It’s a sensation, a feeling, and a rush all its own. It’s so powerful, linking our hearts and minds as only lovers can.

It can be profound, but it can still be a lot of fun!

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Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: Captain Marvel #1

It’s Wednesday and if you’re a lifelong comic book fan like me, you know that’s the most magical day of the week. Screw sleeping in on Saturday or going out to party on Fridays. Wednesday is new comic day, that magical day when a fresh batch of comics enter the world and make it more awesome. In celebration of this day, I offer my pick of a single comic that I feel makes new comic day that much more awesome.

This week was easier than most. If you were up late watching the College Football Championship Game, you saw the latest trailer for the upcoming “Captain Marvel” movie. This year is already shaping up to be an awesome year for Captain Marvel, Carol Danvers, Brie Larson, and everyone affiliated with this marvelous character. Writer, Kelly Thompson, helps do her part with “Captain Marvel #1.”

Even if you’ve never read a Captain Marvel comic and only know the bare minimum about Carol Danvers, this comic is for you. It’s the latest relaunch of the series and after recent upheavals in her life, the timing is perfect. I know a lot of comic fans whine about the number of relaunches that occur these days, but sometimes it’s appropriate when a character undergoes a major transition.

The Carol Danvers in “Captain Marvel #1” is more grounded and self-aware than the Carol Danvers of recent years. She’s focusing less on high-flying space battles and more on events unfolding on Earth. Since Earth also has the occasional Kraken attack in Lower Manhattan, it’s not like she’s short on things to punch.

Beyond just punching monsters, this comic establishes that Carol Danvers isn’t just a hero, an icon, and the star of an upcoming movie that seeks to challenge “Wonder Woman.” She’s an actual person who has thoughts, feelings, insecurities, and even pet peeves. Granted, most of those peeves center around how annoying Tony Stark can be, but that just helps show how human she is, at heart.

Only a small chunk of this comic is spent with her fighting monsters or saving the day. A lot more of it shows Carol rebuilding and reconnecting with the people in her life that matter. That includes her best friend, Jessica “Spider-Woman” Drew, and her frequent love interest, James “War Machine” Rhodes.

It makes for plenty of small, meaningful moments that bring out Carol’s humanity. It helps make the larger, more action-packed moments that much more enjoyable. There is a larger conflict unfolding. There are new threats emerging for Carol that have little to do with space aliens, superhero civil wars, or pre-ordering tickets to her movie.

The nature of those threats aren’t resolved in a few punches. In fact, it sets the stage for a larger story that’ll require Carol to raise the bar for heroes, as only she can. It shows Carol Danvers at her best in addition to showing her at her most human. It’s a perfect balance for a Captain Marvel comic.

It really is a great time to be a Captain Marvel fan. Even if you’re not, “Captain Marvel #1” makes a strong case on why she deserves to be in the upper ranks of Marvel’s greatest heroes. That makes my quick pick this week easier than usual. If you buy only one comic this week, make it “Captain Marvel #1.”

If nothing else, it’ll help tide fans over until the debut of her movie on March 8, 2019.

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Cheating, Sex Robots, And Why It’s About To Change

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What constitutes cheating in a relationship? It’s a simple question with not-so-simple answers. It often varies from couple to couple. For some, a simple kiss counts as cheating. For others, nothing beyond full sexual intercourse counts as cheating. For a few, even sex doesn’t count, provided there’s no deeper emotions involved.

It’s a difficult issue, but one in which the factors are clear. You have two people in a relationship. Ideally, they want that relationship to work and part of that involves being faithful. Cheating undermines that. Regardless of whether you think humans are inherently monogamous, it’s generally a good idea to understand the merits of fidelity.

Now, take every complication that surrounds cheating and throw sex robots into the mix. It doesn’t just require that we reevaluate what counts as cheating. It changes many of the fundamental factors behind it.

I know that has been a common refrain whenever I’ve mentioned sex robots. Beyond changing how we’ll interact with advanced artificial intelligence, this technology will trigger an unprecedented upheaval in how we look at intimacy. It has already caused controversy in some areas and chances are, it’ll inspire many others.

What inspired this particular issue was a study conducted by the University of Helsinki that evaluated attitudes on cheating, prostitutes, and sex robots. The methodology was fairly straightforward. It surveyed participants’ reactions to a particular scenario involving a 30-year-old individual whose gender varied from that of those responding.

The scenario was that, while on a business trip, the individual visited either a prostitute or a sex robot. Sometimes the individual was married. Sometimes they were single. For the most part, respondents didn’t condemn the person for using either if they were single, although the one using the sex robot wasn’t subject to too much scorn.

Relatively speaking.

However, it was when the person was in a committed relationship where the data really diverged. Whether the person visited a sex robot or a prostitute, they were still guilty of cheating in the eyes of the respondents. Those who used the service of the sex robot, though, weren’t as harshly condemned. In other words, using a sex robot isn’t the same as soliciting a prostitute.

This insight is pretty striking, in and of itself. It has major implications for the prostitution industry, which has been subject to some major upheavals in recent years. If this research is any indication, the market is about to get very ripe for sex robots. As prostitution becomes increasingly taboo, sex robots may emerge as a more palatable alternative.

That said, the study did make clear that the participants saw using sex robots as a form of cheating. Even if it wasn’t cheating on the same level, it still constituted cheating to some extent. This is revealing in the context of sex robots because, unlike living prostitutes, it ascribes an emotional connection.

These aren’t vibrators, dildos, or flesh lights. These are robots that look, feel, and act like living people. A woman bringing herself to orgasm with a vibrator or a man doing the same with the aid of internet porn is seen as an individual act. The function is the same, though. These devices are created with the intent of giving the user a sexual experience.

It creates a situation in which this unspoken standard emerges in the context of cheating. People in a relationship may not always like that their significant other gets a sexual release without them, but generally won’t consider them using toys or porn an issue, although that does become an issue for certain people.

In the context of this study, sex robots hint that those in a relationship own their significant other’s sexuality to some extent. If they’re not getting their release from them, then that counts as cheating. It’s easier to overlook with sex toys because they don’t have faces or a measure of intelligence. Once it becomes human-like, though, it becomes an issue.

This aspect of cheating, establishing that how someone goes about pursuing individual sexual experiences, will require people in relationships to start asking some uncomfortable questions.

Do those in a relationship have a say in how their partner goes about pursuing a sexual release on their own?

Just how much should sex be a factor in determining what constitutes cheating?

What is the fundamental difference between a sex robot and a sex toy?

Does using a sex robot constitute a unique sexual experience beyond cheating?

I don’t claim to know the answer to these questions. I’ve written stories about sex robots, but that doesn’t qualify me to answer them. The rapid development of sex robot technology and the emergence of brothels that utilize sex dolls ensure that this will be an issue, regardless of how we feel about cheating.

There is one component, however, of this study and this issue that I feel is worth highlighting. Unfortunately, it involves gender politics and I know how heated that can get. I have a feeling that just pointing this out is going to trigger all sorts of heated discourse, but it’s still worth noting.

In the same University of Helsinki study, there was one bit of data that’s sure to complicate future discussions of cheating. Regardless of whether prostitutes or sex robots were involved, there was a gender difference in terms of condemnation. Specifically, women gave stronger condemnation to users of both prostitutes and sex robots. This is the exact quote from the study.

“There was a consistent difference in how female subjects showed slightly stronger condemnation than male subjects.”

The keyword in there is “slight,” but in research, those differences matter. Some of that difference could be cultural. This research was conducted among young college students in Scandinavia. The demographics and sample size is worth taking into account.

That said, such a difference does seem to reflect the extent to which gender matters with respect to cheating. The women, in this study, had a broader definition of what constituted cheating. A sex robot and a prostitute aren’t that different. Both warrant condemnation. Both can be used as a means of judgment and scorn.

As sex robot technology becomes more advanced, this difference is likely going to become more apparent. As a result, it’s likely to trigger even more gender-driven conflicts than we have now, which is saying something given the topics that trigger such conflicts. Changing concepts of cheating will likely intensify those conflicts.

Again, and this is a necessary disclaimer for research of any kind, this study is not definitive. It’s still worth studying, though. It provides a telling clue at where the line is right now with respect to cheating. It also hints at just how much it’s going to change in the coming years as sex robots become more advanced.

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Filed under futurism, gender issues, Marriage and Relationships, political correctness, prostitution, psychology, romance, Second Sexual Revolution, sex in society, sex robots, sexuality, Sexy Future, technology

“Captain Marvel” Second Trailer

Another glorious preview for “Captain Marvel” has dropped. Let’s all take a moment to soak in its marvelous glory. She’s destined to fly higher, farther, and faster than any hero before her. Thanos is fucked. Nuff said!

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Daily Sexy Musing: Intimate Fitness

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Exercise is one of those things that has many benefits, but is so hard to do consistently and effectively. I know this better than most because for a good chunk of my life, I did not care for exercise. Gym was my least favorite class in high school and I looked for any excuse to avoid it.

As I got older, though, I came to appreciate it and not just for the health benefits. It started off as just a way to look better and gain confidence, which I’ve talked about before. Over time, it became something else entirely. Exercise, pushing myself, and gaining greater strength became something more intimate. It took on greater appeal beyond just seeking healthier habits.

That appeal isn’t just purely anecdotal. Research has shown that couples who work out together tend to have stronger emotional bonds. On a purely physical level, that makes sense. Working out involves sweating, grunting, and heavy exertion. It has more than a few similarities to making love and you don’t even have to be naked to enjoy it, although that has benefits too.

I’m not in a relationship yet, but I hope that when I do find that special someone, they’ll be the kind of person I enjoy working out with. It’s an intimacy I’d love to share one day. The following Daily Sexy Musing is a testament to the power of that intimacy. I hope it inspires lovers and single people alike to share in the sweat, among other things.

I lace up my shoes.

I put on the lightest clothes I have.

Everything I have on has one purpose and that’s to absorb sweat.

We’ll be doing plenty of that this morning. I know because I see that special glint in your eyes. You’re going to really push yourself. You want me to keep up, but you don’t want to make it easy for me. I’m up for the challenge. If anything, I welcome it.

Gone are the fancy clothes, the elaborate makeup, and the overpriced aftershave. There’s no spectacle to present or façade to craft. Instead, only sweat, grit, and drive will shape our appearance. We will be at our dirty and most disheveled. At the same time, however, we will also be our most honest.

Energized and impassioned, I follow you into a world of rigor.

It starts with running. Stretching, weights, and various other activities follow. Together, we move through soreness and exhaustion. We push each other, encourage one another, and embrace every bead of sweat that forms. My muscles burn and my body aches, but with the pain comes achievement.

When we run together, we share in the strain.

When we endure the strain, we gain greater strength.

When we channel that strength, we link our bodies and hearts.

Faster and faster, our hearts beat with every step and every rep. The intensity breeds intimacy. Endurance builds trust. You know I’ll keep up with you. I know you’ll keep up with me. It’s like making love atop the limits that hold us back, embracing the hardship to enhance the bliss.

Alone, we can push ourselves and grow stronger.

Alone, we can improve our bodies and our souls with hard work and sweat.

Together, however, we gain more than just health and vitality.

Together, our sweat, strain, and grit unites us.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Roaring Fire Edition

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The holidays are over, but winter is just getting started and it always feels frustratingly long. Unless you’re lucky enough to live in a tropical climate, we’ve got several months of cold temperatures and crappy weather to look forward to. I’m already dreading it. As a romantic and someone who just enjoys being naked, I’ve found that winter cold tends to limit the potential for sexy situations.

If you have a fireplace, though, you have an advantage. There’s a reason why more than one song has referenced making love down by the fire. It doesn’t take much imagination, dirty or otherwise, to see the appeal. It’s both sexy and romantic, cuddling up with your lover under the light and warmth of a roaring fire in the fireplace.

I’ve already written one sexy short story about it. There’s a good chance I’ll write others like it in the future. It also helps that my current place actually has a gas fireplace that I regularly use. If I ever have company of a sexy kind, I certainly hope to use it. During this time of year, you have to use what you can to keep things sexy.

Whether you have a fireplace or not, the inherent sexiness is hard to deny. That’s why I’m dedicating this week’s edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts to roaring fireplaces and the sex appeal they bring during this most unsexy of seasons. If you have one like I do, I hope you get a chance to use it this winter.


“Whoever invented lubricant has probably brought more joy to the world than they’ll ever realize.”


“The success of any party is predicated on how well it facilitates the process of getting drunk and/or laid.”


“Good things are worth waiting for, but foreplay makes even the wait a lot more enjoyable.”


“In certain circumstances, people who are horny can do just as much property damage as people who are horny.”


“Good sex takes practice, but convincing others to practice with you takes talent.”


“Logistically speaking, many lives are lost in the front seats of cars whereas many lives are created in the back seats.”


“A gift itself won’t get you laid, but the thought that goes into it might.”


These next couple months are going to be long and cold. For those who don’t like being cooped up indoors, it’s going to be a challenge. Sometimes, that means finding sexy scenarios wherever and whenever you can. I’m not saying having a fireplace is the best scenario for lovers during these cold winter months. I’m just saying it’s hard to beat.

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“Under The Stars” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote after enjoying a perfectly clear night sky and seeing so many beautiful stars. I hope everyone else gets to a enjoy a sight like that at some point in their lives. I also hope everyone enjoys this sexy story.

“It’s good to be home.”

That was the first thing Natalie Meyers said to herself after stepping off the plane. She’d just endured a nine-hour flight, which had included three-hour layover in Atlanta and a seat next to a man who snored like a chainsaw. It had been a long day, to say the least, but that made coming all the more refreshing.

She couldn’t make her way through the main airport terminal fast enough. That proved challenging because it was the early evening and everything was still bustling. Crowds of people swarmed in every direction, talking and yelling over each other in a chorus of noise. Having spent three days in a city, her ears were already ringing. It felt like she hadn’t had a quiet moment since she left.

“I need to get out of here,” Natalie sighed as she walked faster.

She still couldn’t hear herself. It hadn’t been her first business trip, but she still wasn’t used to it, the endless noise from every direction. Natalie had grown up in a rural community where the noisiest thing was a lawnmower engine. Even the college she’d gone to had been small and remote – hectic in the day, but peaceful and quiet at night. She needed that peace. She needed that quiet. Even though her job as a web developer made for a lengthy commute, she could only stand the chaos for so long.

It seemed to follow her, even as Natalie exited into the loading area in front of the airport. There must have been a convention or something because the road was lined with taxis and shuttles. One even honked their horn just as she walked by it.

“Hey! Hurry it up!” the driver yelled. “We got a schedule to keep!”

Natalie rolled her eyes and groaned. That was the other annoyance she sought to escape. Her trip involved a lengthy itinerary that had been squeezed into three short days. There were meetings, presentations, lunch-ins, and informal gatherings that she had be part of within a strict timeframe. At one point, she had to schedule her sleep into increments of four hours.

She was sick of all that. For the rest of the weekend, she didn’t want to keep a schedule. She didn’t want to check the clock every 30 minutes or get a buzz from her phone when it was time for another task. She just wanted step back, detach herself from work, and relax.

That feeling still seemed so far away. Then, through the maze of cars and shuttles, Natalie saw a welcome sight.

“Hey there, beautiful! Over here!” said a familiar voice.

“Finally, some yelling I don’t mind,” she said with a beaming smile.

Natalie set aside her suitcase and jumped into the arms of the tall, burly man waiting by the curb. He caught her with ease, sharing extra firm hug as she kissed him passionately. His breath didn’t reek of overpriced whiskey and overcooked steak, like the men she’d dealt with for the past several days. That just wasn’t the style of someone like Peter Brooks. He had simpler, less distinct tastes. Being her fiancé, he knew better than most how much that meant to her.

“Wow!” he said after their lips parted. “Did you miss me that much?”

“You have no idea,” Natalie told him, still clinging to his broad shoulders.

“And here I was worried that I didn’t have time to shave. You know how I like looking good for my future wife.”

“Trust me. You’re five-a-clock shadow and uncombed is the prettiest thing I’ve seen in days. I don’t think I could stand the sight of another comb-over at this point.”

“Good to know,” he said with a humored grin.

Natalie would’ve loved to stay in his arms a bit longer, but she was too eager to get away from the noisy airport. After another quick kiss, Peter picked up her suitcase and set it into the back seat of his truck. They then got in and drove off, navigating plenty of traffic in the process. It was still rush-hour so there was still plenty of noise to go around.

“I know you’re anxious to get home, but they had to close a couple lanes on the parkway,” Peter said as they pulled into a congested road. “Some idiot with a trailer didn’t check twice to see if the hitch was locked.”

“With the way my day has gone, that sounds about right,” Natalie sighed.

“Was it really that rough?”

“Not rough, just busy,” she said. “Every hour of every day of that trip, there was always something going on. I couldn’t stop to catch my breath or take time to collect my thoughts. It was overwhelming!”

“Well, you’re home now. We got the entire weekend to ourselves. I even told my team at the quarry not to call until Monday.”

“Even if someone blows up the batching plant?” she joked.

“I don’t care if they blow up half the state. I’m spending the weekend with my fiancé. She needs me more than my job, right now.”

Natalie smiled lovingly at her future husband. She then reached over and lovingly embraced his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Even while stuck in traffic, it put a smile on his face as well.

It was exactly what she needed, quality time with Peter, away from the commotion and chaos of her job. After the last few days, it seemed downright therapeutic. Natalie thought she could handle working for a software company and living out in the country. For the most part, she had. As her career grew, it seemed to get harder. There were times when it seemed too hard, but Peter helped her stay strong. She honestly didn’t think she could’ve made it so far without him.

She lingered close to him, showing her appreciation of those strong arms of his. Working in a quarry might have seemed unappealing to most, but Peter was a hands-on kind of guy and it showed in his muscles. He was a man of strength and grit, the kind who let his actions do the talking, which stood in stark contrast to most of the men she knew.

As a result, he appreciated peace and quiet as much as her. Silence between them was rarely awkward and with all the cars around them, they needed whatever serenity they could get. They must have lingered on the parkway for a good 20 minutes before they finally made it onto the highway. There was plenty of frustration and horn-honking to go around, but Natalie refused to let it get to her. She knew things would get easier once they got far enough away from the city.

“Looks like we’re past the worst of it,” Peter said as they drove onto the highway. “It won’t be much longer, now. I promise I’ll get you away from this mess as fast as this truck will allow me.”

“You’re so sweet,” Natalie said, giving him a playful kiss on the cheek. “If you get pulled over, I’ll gladly pay the fine myself.”

“My cousin knows the sheriff. I’ll call in some favors if I have to. It’s supposed to be a nice, clear night…no storms, no traffic jams, and no alarms waking you up at the crack of dawn.”

“You can stop enticing me, Peter. I’m already eager to get home and out of these damn work clothes.”

“Any chance you’ll let me help with that?” he teased.

“Well, that all depends on how quickly you can get us to a zip code where the cows outnumber the people.”

She threw in some seductive undertones, adding both incentive and anticipation to her lover’s efforts. He responded quickly, speeding up and passing several cars on the highway. One driver flipped them off, but he didn’t seem to notice. She could already tell he was entertaining thoughts of an intimate reunion. If he knew just how many thoughts she’d been entertaining on the flight, he would’ve drove even faster.

Natalie tried not to get too ahead of herself, though. For the moment, getting away from work had priority over her sex life. She let her husband focus on getting them home while she settled in, letting her mind and body settle after so much work.

At least a half-hour passed, which was the average time it took to get from the airport to the country roads that led to her and Peter’s house. It felt much longer than that, though. Natalie didn’t even look at the clock or check her phone. She didn’t care to know how late it was or how little rest she’d gotten over the past three days. She’d left those worries back at the airport.

As they got farther away from the city and deeper into the countryside, Natalie found herself looking up at the sky. The sun had set hours ago and a full moon illuminated the sky alongside plenty of stars. It was a sight she’d come to appreciate growing up in such a rural area, a clear night sky full of stars. It was something she just couldn’t get in the city or even the suburban office park where she worked.

“The moon is really bright tonight,” she commented shortly after they exited the highway. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It’s no brighter than usual,” Peter said, finally slowing down a bit. “Trust me, the dogs would’ve noticed.”

“I guess it just feels that way after staying in the city for three days. My hotel room overlooked a brick wall and an air conditioner unit.”

“That’s some view,” he laughed.

“It didn’t make much difference. The night before I left, I joined my co-workers for this rooftop mixer at the hotel. It was a clear night, just like this one. I could see the moon, but I didn’t see a single star. I didn’t even hear any crickets. There was just cars, yelling, and the occasional police fire siren.”

“Sounds like they got too much going on to just admire the stars. It’s a damn shame too. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“That’s just it. I think they do, on some levels. They’re just resigned to it. They shrug it off like it’s no big deal.”

“That’s their loss, I guess. Then again, they probably don’t have fond memories of watching the stars with their future spouse in high school.”

“Funny, I don’t remember us just watching the sky on those nights.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything because three days without you has made things mighty lonely back at the house. The dogs are nice, but there’s only so much companionship they can give.”

“I would hope so,” Natalie said curtly. “Then again, I shouldn’t be talking. While I was on that trip, I was surrounded by all these people…perfect strangers and friendly co-workers. And yet, I still felt lonely.”

“Or maybe you just missed my companionship too?” he teased.

“I don’t doubt that was part of it. At the same time, though, it was so…disorienting.”

Natalie hugged her shoulders as she thought about it. She kept gazing up at the moon and stars. They only 15 minutes away from home. At that point, they had ventured into the quiet back roads that connected their isolated community from the bustle of the nearest city. The sky was so much clearer, devoid of tall buildings and glaring lights. Something about that resonated with her on a personal level.

Looking back over at her future husband, still looking so focused and poised, Natalie felt something she hadn’t experienced in the city. Sitting next to her wasn’t just another random figure who’d passed her by at a busy crosswalk. He was Peter Evan Brooks, a hard-working country boy who loved baseball, dogs, and gangster movies. He was the man she’d randomly met in the sixth grade during a group project for social studies…the man who’d asked her out on a dare from his brother…the man who’d proposed to her on a clear, crisp night under the stars.

That simple, but profound idea – that the man next to her meant so much for reasons that seemed so small on paper – hit her like a splash of cold water. It was like she needed a reminder of why she worked so hard in the first place. Along with that clarity, however, came another powerful feeling…one that would delay the final stretch of her trip home.

“Peter,” Natalie said, her tone becoming much more serious, “pull the truck over.”

“What?” Peter said, swerving slightly along the narrow road. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine…almost,” she assured him. “There’s just something I really need right now and I don’t want to wait until we get home.”

To make her intentions more obvious, she reached over and slipped her hand between his legs, rubbing along the crotch of those dirty blue jeans he refused to watch. The way she touched him caused him to abruptly slow down, causing him to grip the steering wheel harder. He seemed to get the message, but Natalie decided to emphasize her desire.

“The moon is out, the stars are shining, and the back of your truck is empty,” she said, leaning over and whispering into his ear seductively. “Peter, that trip left me so tense. Please…help me feel at home again.”

Her hand still rubbing the inseam of his pants, she playfully nibbled on his ear-lobe, something that always got his blood flowing in the right direction. Natalie felt him tense, even as he kept his eyes on the road. That old her he’d already decided.

“I’m pulling over,” he said, his voice laced with a determined grit that she found so sexy.

Peter pressed the breaks, causing the tires to skid along the poorly-paved roads. He then pulled the truck over, parking it along the gravel curve. It was a bumpy, uneven ride that shook them both from their seat. Natalie didn’t mind, though. If anything, it turned her on.

As soon as the truck came to a stop, he turned off the engine and undid his seat-belt. Almost immediately, he threw his arms around her and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Natalie matched his passion every step of the way, running her hand over his unshaven face while stroking the growing bulge in his pants. However, as much as she craved her fiancé’s love, there was something else she craved.

“Outside,” she said intently. “I need to do this outside.”

“Need to? Or want to?” Peter questioned with a half-grin.

“Need!” Natalie said with completely certainty. “I really, really need it.”

Her words left no room for uncertainty. She didn’t care that they were out in the open. They were already on a rarely-traveled backroad. They hadn’t seen another car drive by in nearly five minutes. There was nothing but farmland on one side of the road and open field on the other. There were no buildings or people looming over them. It was just them, the warm air, and the night sky.

After parting from their embrace, she undid her seatbelt and got out of the truck. She then stumbled towards the back, throwing off her jacket and undoing the top several buttons of her blouse. Peter followed suit, undoing his flannel shirt along the way and the white undershirt beneath it. In the hot, muggy night air, clothes were unbearable, especially after wearing only formal business attire for three days.

“Off…got to get it off!” Natalie said with growing desperation.

By the time she met Peter at the back of the truck, she got her blouse off and he’d already loosened his belt. They embraced again, smothering each other with hard kisses and affectionate gestures. Just feeling that cut upper body of his, complete with chest hair and the toned muscles that came from working at a quarry, sent her libido into overdrive. She’d never wanted her lover’s touch more than she did at that moment.

As they lips and tongues meshed, Peter helped get her out of more clothes. He undid the clasp of her bra, allowing her breasts to tumble free into the night air. He also unzipped the back of her skirt, allowing it to fall to the dirty gravel below. Now in just heels and a pair of panties, Natalie already felt more at home. She still sought more.

“Peter…the truck,” she told him in between kisses.

“I hear year, darling,” he said with a manly grin.

With one arm still around her waist, he opened the rear door to expose the truck bed. It had little on it other than a few tool boxes from the quarry. That ensured they had plenty of room to work with. Given how horny she felt, they were going to need it.

“You do need this. I can tell,” Peter said. “If I’m going to be your husband, then I got to prioritize your needs.”

“You’re a good, honorable man, Peter,” she told him. “Now what are you waiting for? Get those pants off!”

Like an overly eager prom date, Natalie jumped up into her husband’s arms, kicking off her heels in the process. He instinctively caught her, his powerful hands clenching her butt in just the right way. With the strength and fortitude that made Peter a testament to manliness, he carried her onto the truck bed and laid her down.

She didn’t care that it was dirty, covered in dust from rock and cement. She actually welcomed that smell after spending days in a hotel that always reeked of window cleaner and bleach. Now on her back, looking up at the stars with the moon illuminating the area around her, she watched as Peter took off his pants, boxers and all. He already looked like an angel ready to welcome her home…one who just happened to have a raging semi.

“If anyone sees us, it’s on you,” Peter teased.

“I don’t care if the entire county sees our naked asses from above,” Natalie said. “I’m going to make love to my future husband right here out in the open.”

“When you say it like, that it sounds even sexier!”

Now, he seemed to share in the burning need. After kicking off his pants and boots, he crawled onto the truck bed with her and kissed her again. Like a couple of horny prom dates in heat, they made out on the dusty surface.

The light of the stars, the sound of the crickets, and the gusts of cool wind created a special kind of ambience. It was the complete antithesis of the atmosphere she’d experienced in the city. She wasn’t just another face in a sea of people surrounded by buildings. She was Natalie Meyers, sharing an act of passion with Peter Brooks in the peaceful surroundings of their rural home.

Her lover seemed extra dedicated to making her feel at home. After some heated kissing mixed with playful foreplay, he tender trailed his lips down her neck and over her breasts. As he made his way down her womanly body, he grasped the sides of her panties and pulled them down her shapely legs. She lifted her hips to accommodate him, welcoming the feeling of clean country air between her legs.

Once off, Peter didn’t even set her underwear aside for later. He threw it out into the grassy field next to the curb, showing no intention of retrieving it later.

“Relax, my love,” he told her in that deep, seductive voice of his. “Just lay back and admire the stars while I make you feel at home.”

“At home…yes,” Natalie said a she slipped into a daze of desire.

With little regard for bugs or dirt, she did as her love requested, turning her attention to the stars and trusting her future husband’s amorous intent. She felt those strong hands of his grab her by the thighs and push them apart, further exposing her exposed flesh to the elements. Peter didn’t let them get too exposed, though. True to his word, he buried his face in her inner thighs and began giving her oral sex.

“Oohhh Peter!” she gasped, her voice echoing over the crickets and winds.

The feelings that followed were welcoming, to say the least. Peter was more direct than usual, elevating her hips up to his face and using his tongue to probe her hot depths. He knew her anatomy so well, having memorized all her most sensitive areas. He was so thorough, not being too careful, but not being in a hurry either. He treated giving his future wife oral sex with the same urgency he had in getting her home.

Hot, powerful sensations coursed through her body, the warmth contrasting perfectly with the brisk winds that blew over her naked skin. As Natalie soaked in every feeling, she let her body writhe wildly like an animal unchained. She even fondled her breasts, supplementing the sensations and further heightening the desire.

As she soaked in the feeling, she kept her eyes on the stars. The visual spectacle of a sky unhindered by city lights supplemented the spectacle of receiving oral sex from the man she loved. It was sight she couldn’t see in the city, as well as a feeling she couldn’t get from anyone else. That just made every sensual sensation even more meaningful.

Despite several gusts of wind that blew over the truck, Natalie reached full aroused. Even Peter seemed impressed as he gave her tender folds a few extra licks, taking in her womanly scent and joining her in a daze of desire.

“Mmm…so hot and wet,” Peter said. “I missed you so much, Natalie.”

“Me too, Peter,” she said, already gasping for air.

“I’m going to make love to you now,” he told her, “right here…under the stars.”

“Under the stars with my future husband…yeah, I’d like that.”

With a glint of confidence and an aura of strength, her future husband set her hips down and got back on top of her. Natalie hooked her legs around his waist, drawing her lover into her grasp. The weight of his masculine physique pressed up against hers, as if to protect her from the gusty winds. She could already feel his erect member pressing against her inner thighs, an expected byproduct for a man who loved his truck, the country air, and going down on a beautiful women. As Peter aligned his body with hers, he captured her lips in another kiss.

Then, in a simple thrust of the hips, he entered her. Like two lost souls finding each other from a prolonged absence, their flesh came together.

“Ohhh Natalie!” her love moaned.

“Peter…” was all Natalie could get out.

For a moment, they just savored the feeling, her warm folds embracing his hardened member. That feeling of smooth, intimate penetration sent shivers of delight coursing through her body. Fueled by that feeling, Peter started moving, kissing down her neck and caressing her feminine curves. The truck began shaking. Her world shook with it. Less than an hour ago, she’d been stressed and restless. Now, she was in a world of loving bliss.

“Oohhh Peter!” Natalie cried out.

She tightened her hold on him, digging the balls of her feet into his lower back and raking her nails over his shoulders. Peter was more energetic than usual, working his body with hers at a vigorous rhythm that tested both her endurance and the tires of his truck. They both held up, though. Through each fervent thrust, Natalie felt an ecstasy that complemented their shared passions.

As their lovemaking unfolded in the midst of crickets and humidity, she still found herself gazing up at the stars. Peter kept his face buried in her neck, as he often did when they went at it with extra vigor. It allowed her to keep admiring the stars and moon above, a celestial spectacle that she’d come to appreciate for so many reasons. After not being able to enjoy it while on her trip, it took on almost as much meaning as the act of making love to Peter…almost.

“The stars…my love…my home,” Natalie found herself saying. “I’m really…home!”

Her passionate proclamation echoed into the night sky. It also prompted Peter to step up the pace of their lovemaking, rocking her body and the truck harder with his fervent motions. It sent her to the brink of orgasm in record time, so much so that she grabbed her lover by his unkempt hair and braced herself.

“Ooh I’m close, my love! I’m so…so close!” she told him.

“Consider it…your homecoming,” he whispered into her ear.

Natalie smiled joyously and held her love closer as the ecstasy approached. With her gaze still fixated on the stars above, she awaited that sweet release that could only come through her lover’s dedicated efforts.

When the feeling washed over her, she let out another cry to the heavens that probably carried into the next county. For all she knew, she woke the horses in their neighbors’ stable. If they complained, she’d apologize later. At that moment, Natalie just let herself descend into that warm oceans of ecstasy.

Her toes curled and her naked flesh burned with blissful sensations, a perfect counter to the brisk winds of the night. Muscles, inside and out, throbbed in accord with her release. Along with that feeling came a sense of certainty. No matter how far she traveled or how alone she felt in a crowd, she could still come home to a man who loved her so much that he would have sex with her in the back of a pickup truck.

“I love you, Peter…I love you so much,” Natalie said through the euphoria.

“I love you too, Natalie,” Peter said to her, still panting heavily.

“And now…it’s my turn to welcome you!”

Still holding onto her lover’s hair, she drew him into another kiss. As their lips and tongues united once more, she shifted their bodies around so that she was the one on top and he was lying on the dusty truck bed. Like her, he didn’t seem to mind, though.

Their flesh never parted, his member still hard and in need of its own release. Natalie went to work granting him that, straddling his waist and rising into an upright position – the “poised cowgirl,” as he called it.

From there, she began riding him, gyrating her thighs and working his manhood along her throbbing folds. She didn’t care that parts of her lower body were still recovering from her orgasm. Her love had been dedicated enough to bring her to ecstasy under the stars after a long, lonely trip. The least she could do was return the favor.

“Natalie…so beautiful,” Peter said as he looked up at her naked form.

“My love…share this with me,” she urged him. “You and me…right here…under the stars.”

Natalie took his hands in hers, their fingers becoming entwined as she stepped up the pace of her movements. She gazed at him lovingly, watching her breasts bounce with every movement. She could tell how close he was by the way his face contorted with greater intensity. It was the look of a man who really missed her and the wonderful love the made together.

“Natalie…I’m coming!” he grunted.

“Yes, my darling. I feel it too,” she said to him.

She held his hands close to her chest, allowing him to feel her beating heart as he achieved his climax. Like her, his body shuddered, his manly muscles bulging under the weight of the feeling. Unlike her, though, his focus wasn’t on the stars above. It was on her, the woman who loved him and had missed him so much.

They clung to each other through the duration of his ecstasy. Natalie felt his manhood throb inside her, his manly juices mixing with hers in a convergence of passion. As he processed the feeling, she rose up off him, their flesh finally parting. She then laid down next to him, curling up in his arms atop the dirty truck bed. While he caught his breath, she lovingly stroked his chest and kissed the side of his face.

“Thank you, Peter,” she told him. “I can safely say I don’t feel so disoriented anymore.”

“Yeah…you’re welcome,” her love replied, “and thank you for giving me another reason to marry you. How many other fiancés out there want to make love under the stars like this?”

“The kind who likes to keep things simple, easy, and sexy,” Natalie said playfully. “I can handle a trip to the city, but I’ll always need a good love to come home to.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to being that love…till death do us part.”

With a beaming smile and an affectionate gesture, Natalie kissed her future husband once more. It was a beautiful thing, a culmination of a special act that had unfolded in a special place. They didn’t need a fancy hotel room. They didn’t need a fancy bed, either. They just needed a pickup truck, a clear night sky, and each other.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Gentle Sensual Touch

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When it comes to all things sexy, there’s a time and place for the rough stuff. I’ve had musings about it before. I even wrote a sexy short story about it. For reasons that are too convoluted to get into, the rougher side of sexy stuff tends to get more attention and not always for the right reasons. While it certainly has a place in a passionate relationship, there’s also a place for gentler forms of sexiness.

By gentle, I don’t just mean weak. I’m referring to the kind of soft, soothing touch that favors finesse over fervor. It’s more targeted, seeking out the most sensitive parts of your lover’s being and stimulating them with the utmost care. It’s like performing surgery with a feather, emphasizing tenderness over intensity.

I’ve heard more than a few women express fondness for such gentle touching, but I get the sense it’s taboo for men to admit they enjoy that sort of thing. For some, it just seems unmanly to be gentle. I completely disagree with this sentiment. Men can be gentle. They can even enjoy it. I certainly do and I have ex-girlfriends who will attest to that.

With this Daily Sexy Musing, I hope to celebrate the mutual appeal of that gentle sensual touch that can add a special brand of intimacy to a relationship. It doesn’t always have to involve foreplay. It can even involve two people being fully clothed. It’s an underrated, but overwhelming feeling and one I feel is worth cherishing.

You want me.

I want you.

We both sense it.

We both intend to act on it.

However, our desires take us down a unique path. This time, I’m not inclined to just rip your clothes off, find the nearest bed, and entwine our bodies in ravenous passion. Instead, I seek something more intimate and subtle. To enjoy the full splendor of our love, we must take the scenic route.

There’s no outburst or venting. As I stand before you, all is calm and serene. I take you in my arms and you embrace me. Our touch intensifies the want, but it does not take us off that unique path. It only makes that path more appealing.

I touch your face with the utmost care.

You touch mine with the gentlest grasp.

It’s like caressing a precious gem, holding something so precious. We don’t dare grasp too hard, nor do we rush to the destination we seek. For once, we are careful. It’s not due fragility or weakness, though. Even that which is powerful sometimes requires the softest of hands.

I feel more of your magnificent flesh.

You feel more of mine.

Together, we touch and tantalize with targeted passion.

With great care and affection, we find those sensitive places that so few ever seek. Even the slightest graze triggers the strongest reactions. It’s music to my ears, hearing you respond to such gentle touching. It shows that I know your body as well as I know your heart.

You demonstrate your knowledge as well. You find just the right spots, teasing them in just the right ways. My heart soars, my loins arise, and my spirit burns with the fires of shared passion. With minimal expenditure, we guide one another to the peak of desire.

There’s no need to rush.

There’s no need to strain.

Through gentle touch, the true strength of our love is revealed.

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