Never Forget: A Tribute To The Victims Of 9/11 (And The Heroes It Inspired)

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Today is a solemn day, but one we should never forget. I don’t think I need to tell anyone over the age of 25 why September 11th, 2001 is a day we’ll never forget. Even for those born after, it affects them. Nearly two decades later, it continues to affect us all. That’s why we shouldn’t forget. We need to remember because we need to learn from it.

There’s a lot I can say about the issues surrounding September 11th, 2001. I could spend the next year, writing an article every day about the lives lost and the families shattered by that terrible incident. It still wouldn’t be enough. It still wouldn’t heal the scars.

With that in mind, I won’t lament over what and who we lost on that day. Instead, I’ll take the advice of the late Fred Rogers, a man whose capacity for love and compassion is legendary.

In the spirit of those wise, caring words, I think the best thing we can do to honor the victims and learn from the trauma we all experienced that fateful day is to acknowledge the heroes. You don’t have to look far to find stories of heroism on day like September 11th. On a day like this, though, those stories should carry even greater weight.

In the end, the losses are always going to hurt. However, it’s important to remember that even in the face of atrocity, good people find a way to be good. Amazing people find a way to be heroes. That, more than anything, is worth remembering.

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Daily Sexy Musings: On Football And Passion

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The following is a fresh entry of my daily sexy musings that was inspired by the first week of the NFL regular season. I understand it’s one of those concepts that isn’t inherently sexy, even for die-hard football fans like me. I also understand that it’s a sport that primarily appeals to men. I know there are plenty of passionate female fans, some of which I know personally, but this is the perception.

Despite those circumstances, I think there’s real sex appeal in the sport of football and I’m not just referring to the outfits worn by the cheerleaders. It’s an intense, physical sport. Love and sex can also be intense and physical. It’s just a matter of channeling it. This is my effort to channel both into a single, sexy concept. Enjoy!

The game begins. You take the field with a goal and a game plan. You know what you want. You know what you have to do to get it. There are obstacles in your way, but the rewards are more than worth it. What you want and what you seek is there before you. It’s not enough to seek it, either. You have to earn it.

It’s more than a game. It’s more than a passion. It’s a part of life. It’s a necessity, an identity, and a skill. It dominates your thoughts, evokes your strongest feelings, and drives you to strive for something greater. You don’t always get it, but losing doesn’t make you want it less. If anything, it makes you want it even more.

To achieve it, you need to work.

To work, you need to sweat.

To sweat, you need to be physical.

Most importantly, though, you need to work as a team. Alone, you can only do so much. You can still achieve plenty. To win that ultimate prize, though, you need others who will work with you. You need someone willing to put in the work, sweat, and physicality. Not every teammate will get along with you. Those that do, though, are special. With them, and only them, you win.

One win is not enough, though.

A single win is just one step in a longer journey. Many can win a single game, but only an elite few can win over the course of an entire season. Even fewer can win over the course of many seasons. Champions come and go. Dynasties rise and fall. Those that play hard and together leave a lasting legacy that inspires others to follow suit.

To make your mark, you must be willing to sacrifice. You endure the hits, take the chances, and learn from mistakes. You coordinate and collaborate, seeking guidance and growth from those who came before you. There’s never an end. There’s only a process. The players come and go, but the game continues, season by season.

The game of football and the game of love, two worlds driven by passion and grit, push us to our limits. They dare us to be greater, trusting others and sharing burdens. It is a game many play, but few master. It is a spectacle that entertains and astonishes. Sometimes, we play. Sometimes, we cheer others on. Through the feelings it inspires, we all feel like champions.

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Why Deadpool Is The Perfect Nihilist Hero

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How do you navigate a world where everything is ultimately meaningless? That is a question that self-proclaimed nihilists and “Rick and Morty” fans often struggle with in heated philosophical debates.

I’ve tried contributing to that debate before with my own insights. I’d like to do so again while also tying the discussion one of my favorite superheroes, who just happens to have had a very successful movie this year. For me, that’s as big a win-win I’ll get without also referencing ice cream and bikini models.

I still want to further the nihilism debate, though. To do that, I need to re-frame the initial question I stated. How do you navigate a world where you know you’re just a comic book character and everything you do is subject to endless retcons, marketing gimmicks, and the occasional time traveler?

That’s basically the life Deadpool lives every hour of every day. Unlike the myriad of other iconic superheroes owned by Marvel and governed by their Disney overlords, he knows he’s a comic book character. His tendency to break the fourth wall is the most common manifestation of that knowledge.

It doesn’t seem to bother him, though. It hasn’t stopped him from doing things like joining the Avengers, teaming up with Cable, and marrying a succubus. He still cracks dirty jokes, shoots people and the occasional shape-shifting alien for money, and generally does his own thing outside the traditional superhero archetype.

Now, there are a lot of reasons why Deadpool is such an endearing character. I’ve cited more than a few, but I’d like to submit another for Deadpool fans and philosophy buffs alike.

Deadpool is the PERFECT nihilist hero.

I know “nihilist hero” isn’t really a thing, but given the philosophical underpinnings of nihilism, that really doesn’t matter much. When I say Deadpool is a nihilist hero, I don’t just mean that he’s someone who personifies a concept the same way Captain America personifies American ideals. With Deadpool, I’m referring more to the way we process the often-depressing implications of nihilism.

Those concepts can be pretty difficult to anyone who thinks about them for more than two minutes. At the core of nihilism is the idea that life, the universe, and everything in between has no inherent purpose. Nothing you or anyone else does matters in the grand scheme of things. Whether we’re random clumps of matter or comic book characters, it’s all ultimately pointless.

For many, that’s a scary notion. That’s why it’s only natural that people will cling to ideologies, religions, and simple hobbies to forge some semblance of meaning out of a meaningless universe. It often requires that we not care about the truth and simply accept the possibility of truth, which can be difficult when the universe constantly reminds us how harsh and unfair it can be.

For someone like Rick Sanchez of “Rick and Morty,” there’s no getting around the meaninglessness of it all. His approach and advice in navigating a nihilistic universe often boils down to not thinking about it. While that advice is actually more useful than it sounds, it’s not very heroic.

This is where Deadpool sets himself apart. The fact that Deadpool knows he’s a fictional character establishes that he understands how meaningless his existence truly is. Everything he knows, loves, and holds dear is nothing more than the whim of comic creators who ripped his name and his appearance from an established DC character.

How does anyone deal with that kind of knowledge? Even the smartest, most capable characters in the entire Marvel universe, which includes gods, aliens, and alien gods, don’t have the insight that Deadpool has. It’s the kind of thing that would drive even a powerful mind insane.

However, Deadpool is not insane. He’s crude, vulgar, obnoxious, annoying, self-destructive, immature, and impulsive. He once made 372,844 pancakes for no reason. That’s absurd, but it isn’t insane. You could even argue he’s “super sane” in the sense that he’s more aware than most of how the world works.

That sort of awareness tends to inspire chaos in characters like the Joker or misanthropy in characters like Rick Sanchez. With Deadpool, though, that knowledge inspires something different. Instead of misery or clown makeup, Deadpool embraces this understanding and jokes about it.

He does all that while being a wise-cracking anti-hero who will help the Avengers save the world while also shooting a dishonest pizza guy. That may sound eccentric, but it also reflects the key component that establishes Deadpool as a nihilist hero.

Part of what makes a hero heroic is why they do what they do. Superman is often held up as the gold standard because he does the right thing just because it’s the right thing. He doesn’t need another reason. You could argue that’s the most important reason for any hero.

While Superman’s morality still works in a nihilistic context, I don’t consider him a nihilist hero because he operates under the assumption that his life, his role, and his actions have meaning. Deadpool knows this isn’t true because he knows he’s a fictional character. However, that makes his style of heroism more nuanced.

There are times when Deadpool’s actions are selfish and other times when they’re entirely selfless, often within the same story. In both his movies, he alternates between heroic and not-so-heroic actions fairly easily. There’s no internal conflict. He just does it, doesn’t bother with the particulars, and cracks a dirty joke along the way.

For other heroes, the reason for their heroic actions is often as critical as the actions themselves. To them, there is a larger meaning to their heroic roles. That’s why they’ll often hesitate or agonize over doing something for selfish reasons. That basically happens with Spider-Man every other issue.

That’s not an issue for Deadpool, though. He’ll be selfless and selfish, depending on the situation and his mood. If the world is in danger of being overrun by renegade space gods, he’ll step up and be a hero. If the world is not in danger, though, he’ll gladly take a few mercenary gigs and shoot some people for money.

In both cases, there’s no moral conflict. In the context of nihilism, there shouldn’t be because those details don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Whether Deadpool saves the world or makes a few quick bucks shooting a pick-pocket carries no significant weight. He does what he does because he chooses to. He even dares to enjoy himself along the way.

In a meaningless universe, you can be a selfless hero. You can be a greedy prick, too. It doesn’t matter either way. The only thing that matters, in the context of nihilism, is that someone chooses it because they want to and not because they think it serves some higher purpose. For someone who knows he’s a comic book character, those are the only choices Deadpool makes.

He’s willing to make jokes about that. He’s even willing to exploit it, as evidenced in the post-credits scene of “Deadpool 2.” I would even argue that entire movie cemented Deadpool as a nihilist hero because what he did rendered a great deal of the plot meaningless in the end. However, it still counted as meaningful to him because he chose to be both heroic and selfish at the same time.

There’s no question that there are characters who are more heroic than Deadpool. There are also plenty of characters who are more selfish than Deadpool, but still call themselves heroes. However, it’s Deadpool’s ability to be both and laugh at the meaninglessness of his existence that makes him the greatest nihilist hero.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Sexy Dancing Edition

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I’m not a dancer. Anyone who has ever seen me at a wedding or a night club knows that. It’s not that I have anything against it. It’s just not something I care to do, mostly because I end up making a fool of myself and not in a cute way.

Don’t get me wrong. I can kind of dance. I say kind of because doing so usually requires a few beers and a shot of whiskey. Even with the aid of alcohol, though, I’m not one for technique or style. I just move in whatever way doesn’t look too ridiculous. As long as nobody thinks I’m having a seizure, I feel like I’ve done my part.

While I may be terrible at dancing, I still have a strong appreciation for those with genuine skill and passion. I especially appreciate those who put a little sex appeal into their dancing. I’m not just referring to strippers, either. Some people treat dancing like foreplay. It’s intimate, sensual, and provocative. For romance-lover like me, I can’t help but appreciate that.

I’ve seen men and women pull it off in ways I never could. I may never have that kind of skill, but those who do make the world an inherently sexier place. As such, I’m dedicating this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to those people. If you’re one of them, I sincerely thank you.


“With enough imagination, bravery, and pain tolerance, anything can be a sex toy.”


“Boredom is the primary catalyst for 95 percent of all newly-discovered kinks.”


“The fact that it takes genuine effort to make a back massage non-sexual shows how horny we are.”

 


 

“A quickie is like a shot of tequila, but a night of passionate lovemaking is like an open bar in Las Vegas.”


“The idea that sharing is caring feels like a metaphor for how men use their boners.”


“In the spirit of political correctness, every sex club should be classified as orgasm enthusiast gatherings.”


“It says a lot that anything we describe as orgasmic is usually messy to some extent.”


I hope this gives all those sexy dancers out there a little extra inspiration the next time their favorite song starts playing. Whether it’s at a club or in a bedroom, don’t be afraid to flaunt those sexy dancing skills. The world needs a little sexiness these days. Not everyone is good at it, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate it.

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Daily Sexy Musings: Machine Learning And Foreplay

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The following is a sexy musing that involves artificial intelligence and machine learning, a topic I’ve covered many times before. It may not sound sexy at first, but trust me. There’s plenty of intimate potential if you dare to look. Enjoy!

As I write these words, brilliant people are teaching machines to learn and adapt on a level comparable to that of humans. The promise and potential of this technology cannot be overstated. The things it can do and the feats it’ll help us achieve are beyond imagination.

However, it’s how we’re teaching these machines that makes for some sexy connotations. At the heart of machine learning is the process of navigating complex problems, calculating potential solutions, and learning from mistakes to further refine the approach. Over time, the machine doesn’t just learn its task. It masters it.

Is it a coincidence that this is the same approach we use with foreplay? Think about it.

Two lovers confront one another with a defined task, namely to bring pleasure and express love to one another. They start with simple gestures. From the feedback, they learn from and further refine their approach.

Through trial, error, mistakes, and triumphs, they achieve proficiency in a unique skill. Foreplay is simply the algorithm of lovemaking, a blend of procedures and rules from which we gain an intimate understanding of someone. It starts as something purely physical. When done right, though, it becomes truly intimate.

A machine may not feel or understand love at the moment, but it still uses the very mechanics of lovemaking to achieve its goal. One day, machines will be smart enough to understand complex emotions. On that same day, they may realize just how much of the learning process involves foreplay. If they can one day appreciate it, then why can’t we?

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Sex Doll Brothels And The First (Of Many) Legal Battles

(EDITORS NOTE: Image contains graphic content.) General view

Go back 100 years and chances are that the smartest, most capable lawyer or judge wouldn’t know how to craft reasonable legislation on what constitutes “obscenity.” In the United States, there wasn’t even a legal standard for until 1973 with the Miller v. California case.

Go back 25 years and chances are even the greatest legal minds of the time would have trouble creating legislation about issues such as online harassment, net neutrality, and fake news. The very concept wouldn’t make sense to them because it has no contemporary context. As a result, the people of a particular time and place can’t hope to make sense of the legal issues that subsequently emerge decades later.

This is the emerging situation with sex dolls. Specifically, it’s the laws governing the growing commercial uses of sex dolls that go beyond that of personal masturbation aids. I’ve often mentioned sex dolls as a precursor to intelligent sex robots, which are certain to be a game-changer for the overall sexual landscape. However, sex robots are the future. Sex dolls exist now.

Even though sex dolls have existed for decades, the industry is maturing to a point where they’re not just exceedingly expensive sex toys. They’re a growing segment of a multi-billion dollar industry. Beyond just being a toy, though, sex dolls have the potential to establish a whole new segment of the sex industry.

In early 2018, France opened its first brothel that exclusively utilized sex dolls. While this did cause controversy, efforts to close it failed. As of this writing, it is still open for business. Around that same time, I predicted that this would be the beginning of a much larger legal quandary. Thanks to some recent news from Canada, this prediction is ahead of schedule.

In August 2018, the city of Toronto was poised to open its first sex doll brothel. It would’ve been the first establishment of its kind in North America. Like France, it generated plenty of controversy. Unlike France, though, the public protests succeeded. The brothel’s opening was suspended. As of this writing, there are no plans to open the sex doll brothel at another location.

That’s not to say it won’t happen. In fact, if I were to bet money on the issue, I would wager that a sex doll brothel in North America will open at some point between now and the end of 2019. It probably won’t be in Toronto, but there will be some locality that decides to take a chance. It’s just a matter of when and who has the bravado/business sense to try it.

I won’t go so far as to say it’s inevitable, but I believe the events in France and Canada have laid the foundation for a new legal struggle. As the laws surrounding prostitution become more restrictive, the demand for a sexual outlet is not going away. You can implement as many laws and taboos as you want. Horny people will find an outlet.

I see the emergence of sex doll brothels as both a reaction and a byproduct of the current rhetoric surrounding prostitution and sexuality, in general. The sex-negative attitudes of social conservative, radical feminists, and other regressive whiners have done such a thorough job of conflating prostitution with exploitation that it’s becoming exceedingly impractical for flesh-and-blood prostitutes to operate.

The passage of recent laws intended to combat human trafficking, of which prostitution is only a small part, was a tipping point. It was hard enough for sex workers to operate prior to those laws and since politicians are more reluctant than ever to favor legislation associated with exploiting women, sex dolls are likely to emerge as a viable recourse.

From a legal standpoint, sex doll brothels are in an uncertain state. They’re not people. They have no measure of intelligence, artificial or otherwise. They are literal objects. While that’s sure to offend more than a few select people out there, that’s what they are from a legal point of view.

Even though they’re objects with overtly sexual functions, they are legal. Outside absurd laws in places like Alabama, a private citizen can legally purchase and use sex toys in most of the industrialized world. If you had the money and wanted to, you could order a sex doll today and face no legal repercussions.

On top of that, there are no laws that prohibit people from borrowing someone else’s sex toy. Set aside, for a moment, the revulsion of using someone else’s sex toy. There are no laws prohibiting such a practice. Being able to rent someone else’s toys/products is an established commercial activity practiced by arcades, pool halls, and gyms.

Under that framework, a sex doll brothel could conceivably operate in a manner similar to an arcade. In fact, that’s the legal argument that the operators of the sex doll brothel in France used to keep it open. The argument was that there were no people working in the brothel. These were just toys. Technically speaking, the place wasn’t a brothel. It was a “gaming operation.”

In the legal world, technicalities are often a good work-around, but they’re rarely the basis for a long-term solution. Make no mistake. Sex dolls and sex doll brothels will need long-term solutions, especially as the sex robot industry matures. The only question is how to go about it.


Would sex doll brothels be regulated like strip clubs?

It’s possible, but that would establish a legal precedent for declaring anything sexually stimulating, including people, as objects or toys. Even the most sex-negative of individuals probably don’t want to establish that precedent.


Would sex doll brothels be regulated like massage parlors?

This is also possible, but it comes with its own legal shortcomings. There are, indeed, legitimate massage parlors that function primarily as day spas. You probably see them in strip malls next to a Hallmark and a dry cleaner. These are not places where people go for sexual release.

Then, there are other massage parlors that still consider themselves massage parlors, but offer “extras” on the side. Whenever there’s a prostitution bust these days, many of those operations involve massage parlors and more than a few have been known to use trafficked women. That association, alone, would make this classification for sex doll brothels difficult.


Would sex doll brothels be regulated like adult novelty stories?

This is probably the most likely. It wouldn’t be that much of a stretch for an establishment to sell both sex toys and provide space for someone to use a sex doll. In fact, this function may end up making sex shops more lucrative. As long as it’s not employing actual prostitutes, then it avoids the same pitfalls as massage parlors.

That’s not to say there won’t be issues. Sex shops are already subject to plenty of opposition. Go to any municipality and you’ll find that zoning laws will go out of their way to place immense burdens on such establishments. They usually can’t be located near residential areas, churches, or schools. They’re often seen as a public nuisance, even when they’re small. A sex doll brothel would be much more visible.

Even in a scenario where sex doll brothels are regulated like an adult novelty store, I imagine most people won’t live near one. Only extra-libertarian communities would even permit them with reasonable regulations. Even those that don’t prohibit them will probably be protested by religious zealots and sex-negative feminists claiming that these establishments promote obscenity, sin, and rape culture.

As a result, I suspect that the future of sex dolls and sex doll brothels will probably circumvent all of that by using them as an escort service. If it’s no longer possible for actual people to work as escorts, then chances are some enterprising sex workers will simply exchange the person for the sex doll. Instead of going somewhere, people order a sex doll the same way they would order a pizza.

In this scenario, there’s no need for commercial space. Someone could run the whole thing out of a garage, a basement, or a rental storage unit. That operation might require some resources, especially once sex robots mature. As long as there are horny customers willing to pay for a sexual outlet, though, there will be a market for it.

That’s the one inescapable fact that will drive both the industry and the legislation surrounding it. You can stamp out prostitution, sex work, and sex toys all you want. People are still going to get horny. They’re still going to seek an outlet. The emergence of sex doll brothels are just the latest and they’re sure to set many precedents, not all of which will be sexy.

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Filed under Artificial Intelligence, gender issues, human nature, men's issues, outrage culture, romance, sex in society, sex robots, sexuality

The following is a review I wrote for PopMatters for Astonishing X-men #15. Enjoy!

Heroes, Criminals, and Heroes Operating As Criminals: ‘Astonishing X-men #15’

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September 6, 2018 · 8:39 pm

Daily Sexy Musings: It Starts With A Touch

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The following is a sexy musing on simple touching and how it can turn into something sexy. It may seem like common sense and the basis of many sexy stories, including a few I’ve written, but I believe there’s something much more profound/sensual at work. Enjoy!

One touch is all it took. First, they touched their lover’s shoulder. It was simple, generic, and non-sexual. It was affection at its most basic level. Then, like a seed becoming a giant redwood, it grew and blossomed into something much greater.

One touch became another.

Multiple touches became intimate feelings.

Intimate feelings became powerful lust.

Powerful lust became intense love.

Intense love mixed with all of the above, manifesting into a single cumulative act that encompasses so much.

It all started with that one, simple touch. It can happen at any time under any number of circumstances. Maybe it’s late at night when you and your lover are feeling restless. Maybe it’s early in the morning when a day’s worth of energy hits you both. Maybe it’s the middle of the day when spontaneity or outright boredom take hold. In any case, the evolution of that one touch unfolds.

No words are necessary. Everything that needs to be said is told through action. A caressing of the face reveals affection. A grasp of the buttocks reveals lust. Feeling up the sinews and curves of a lover’s body evokes desire. From expressing our own desires, we then feel desired. It is a perfect cycle of love and lust.

It happens quickly and suddenly. It can be intentional or unintentional. However it happens, the underlying theme is the same. One touch is all it takes to convey so much feeling. Both emotionally and physically, one touch can become an act of intense passion or an outburst of blind lust.

With one touch, the most complex of feelings and the most basic of acts unfold all at once. A caress turns into entrancement. Entrancement becomes foreplay. Foreplay becomes sex. Sex becomes love. It blossoms and blooms, tapping into and channeling the very beauty of nature. It’s just a simple touch, but for two passionate lovers, that’s all it takes.

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“After A Long Week” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that I wrote after an especially long, busy week I had recently. I think everyone has had similar weeks like that at some point in their lives. This is just me turning it into a sexy story. Enjoy!

“Man, it feels good to be home,” said a tired, but restless Kevin Crayton.

Just hearing those words out loud felt cathartic. He almost had to remind himself that it was Friday night. He wasn’t just going home to sleep for a few hours before heading back to the office. He actually had a chance to rest, relax, and actually appreciate everything he’d worked for. That shouldn’t have been such an audacious concept, but that was the kind of life Kevin had forged.

After pulling into the driveway of his modest suburban house, he took a moment to just catch his breath and gather his thoughts. He had just worked a 60-hour week that shouldn’t have been necessary. Unfortunately, his job at the marketing firm he’d been working at since college threw him several curve balls.

On Monday, two people quit out of the blue, not even handing in a two-weeks-notice. On Wednesday, one of his best analysts broke her ankle in a freak accident and had to spend the night in an emergency room. Those were just the most obvious complications that culminated in a project he had finished and turned into the director just two hours ago.

It was one of those tasks that wouldn’t have been too stressful on a typical work week. In fact, he should’ve been able to take off early and spend the afternoon with his wife, Lucy, who only worked part-time at pharmacy. It wasn’t fair to her that he’d been so busy. He’d canceled their usual date night, which really upset him because that was usually the most relaxing part of his week.

He had to make it up to Lucy. He’d promised her the day they got married that he’d make time for her, even as he pursued his career at the firm. Having been raised by a former marine, Kevin took pride in keeping his promises. He just hoped Lucy was in a forgiving mood.

“Now, I need to make it up my wife,” Kevin said with a deep sigh, “and for all I know, that’ll take all weekend.”

He wasn’t looking forward to all the apologies he owed her. They’d barely spoken in the past 36 hours while he’d been so busy at work. That didn’t make Kevin any less eager to see her. He needed a lot of things to make up for the week he had, but for now, he’d settle for his beautiful wife.

“Might as well start somewhere,” he said, shaking his head in exasperation.

Hoping to leave behind a full five days of stress, he exited his car and made his way to the front door. The sun had already set and chances were, Lucy had already eaten dinner. He’d snacked all afternoon and wasn’t even hungry. Hopefully, she had room for desert, assuming she wasn’t upset with him for working so damn hard.

Kevin began rehearsing all the ways he was going to confront her as he approached the front door. Then, just as he was about to open it, he saw a folded piece of paper taped on the doorknob. On the front was his name written in his wife’s handwriting. Curious, Kevin picked it up and opened it.

“Welcome home,” he read. “I know you’ve had a hard week. Open the door to make it better.”

Now more intrigued than curious, Kevin unlocked the front door and opened it. Immediately, he was greeted with a shocking, but appealing sight.

His wife there waiting for him, but in a distinctly kinky sort of way. There, in the middle of the narrow hallway between the stairs and the small table where he put his car keys, Lucy sat naked on the dirty wooden floor. She looked so casual, leaning back on her arms with her legs fully spread with her lady parts on full display. She acted as though it were the most normal thing in the world, a wife greeting her husband with such an overtly sexual display.

“Welcome home, babe,” Lucy greeted. “I had a feeling you’d need something like this.”

“Lucy,” Kevin said, frozen in place and at a loss for words. “I’m…not sure what’s going on here.”

“Kevin, it’s exactly what you think it is and then some. Now, are you going to stand there and gawk or are you going to get in here and let me welcome you?”

His mouth hung open in shock for a good half-minute. Eventually, Kevin collected himself enough to step inside and close the door behind him, if only to keep one of the neighbors from getting an eyeful of his wife’s nude form.

Even then, he remained somewhat confused, but the more primal parts of his mind were already on alert. In seeing Lucy in all her glory, that seductive glint in her eyes that he hadn’t seen since their honeymoon, Kevin remembered that he still had a functioning penis.

He also recalled that hadn’t had sex with his wife in quite a while. In fact, they hadn’t done it in nearly two weeks. That was the longest they had gone without sex since that time they came down with the flu three years ago. After the week he’d just endured, that felt way too long.

“Lucy,” Kevin began, still struggling to form words.

“Before you begin,” she said, cutting him off, “let me just make a few things clear. It should explain why I decided to ditch dinner, candles, and clothes for the night.”

“That would be helpful,” he replied with a half-grin.

“For the record, I know how busy you were this past week. Believe it or not, I do listen when you tell me about your day. You’re not one to complain, but you do tend to wall yourself off. It’s how you keep your mood from affecting the people you care about.”

Kevin’s grin widened. On top of how good she looked naked, Lucy also reminded him how well she knew him. They’d been together for so long that he didn’t always appreciate how much she’d picked up on his quirks. Not a lot of men could make that claim about their wives. It showed just how lucky he was.

“I’m not going to lie. That does bother me to some extent,” Lucy said.

“And I’d planned on spending the weekend apologizing for that,” Kevin said.

“Save it. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I’ve already accepted that harping on that is pointless. Your job is important. Sometimes, a lot of shit goes wrong. Rather than agonize over it, I say we skip to the part where we just celebrate that it’s over.”

“Celebrate…yeah,” he said.

He sounded like an immature teenager who’d never seen exposed breasts before. Lucy snickered at his demeanor and so did he. By every measure, the scene before him was crazy, like something ripped out of a bad porno. It also made a twisted bit of sense.

“So with that in mind…” Lucy said, letting her words trail off.

“Right,” Kevin said, his brain finally catching up to his hormones. “There’s a lot I want to say right now, Lucy. But I got to get the fuck out of this itchy suit.”

With renewed energy and intense urgency, Kevin shed his clothes like they were on fire. He threw off his blazer, undid his belt, and stepped out of his shoes before practically tearing off the fancy suit that he’d gotten dry cleaned less than 12 hours ago.

He didn’t care that he wrinkled his dress shirt and slacks by throwing them into the corner with his running shoes. He barely noticed that he’d kicked his expensive dress shoes across the foyer and into the living room. He needed his wife. He needed her welcoming embrace, among other things.

As soon as he was fully naked, he got down on the floor with her, paying no attention to the dirt and mud stains. He then joined his wife in the middle of the narrow hallway, crawling right between her legs and snaking his arms around her before kissing her passionately.

“God, I need you…so much,” Kevin said in between messy kisses.

“Prove it,” Lucy said, her tone rivaling that any temptress.

Knowing exactly what she meant, skipped the heated make-out session that usually initiated their sexual encounters. Instead, he went directly for the part that made his wife melt in his arms.

Keeping his lips active, he sensually kissed down her neck and over her ample cleavage. He made it a point to give her fleshy mounds an extra firm squeeze, which made her shudder in all the right ways. As much as he loved touching her breasts, though, he didn’t linger. Another part of her body beckoned.

Inch by inch, he worked his way down her torso, past her navel, and into the waiting heat of her inner thighs. He noticed that she was already pretty wet. For all he knew, she’d been waiting for him all evening, eager for his tender touch. He had no intention of making his wife wait a second longer.

“Mmm…seems like you need this too,” Kevin commented.

“Care to prove that too?” she quipped.

“Gladly!”

Like a starving man getting his first meal in days, Kevin buried his face in his love’s pussy and began eating her out. He wasn’t slow or careful like he usually was. He went in full-speed, skillfully parting her wet folds with his fingers and plunging his tongue into her womanly flesh.

That intense, feminine aura consumed him, sending him into a daze of drunken desire. That skill and effort drew a powerful reaction from Lucy as well.

“Ooh Kevin!” she squealed with delight. “Consider me…convinced.”

Falling back on her arms, his love let out moans that echoed loudly within the narrow hall. Encouraged, Kevin pushed her thighs farther apart so he could get in deeper, licking and stimulating her depths as only he could. The sounds of her blissful moans was like the sweetest music. Already, he felt the stress of the past week melting away.

“Lucy…you taste so good,” Kevin moaned, his voice muffled by her pussy.

It was once of his admitted kinks that might have been the deciding factor in Lucy accepting his marriage proposal. He loved giving oral sex to women. He loved the taste, smell, and effect of pussy. He’d loved it since his first girlfriend in high school dared him to go down on her one night. He liked to think he’d made her night. By the time he met Lucy, he’d refined his tastes, as well as his technique.

Using his tongue and fingers to full effect, Kevin stimulated all those extra-sensitive spots he’d come to know by heart. It led to louder moans, the likes of which filled the first level of their house. Lucy was a direct, straightforward person by nature. She made clear to everyone what she wanted, what she liked, and how she wanted things done. That extended to sex and he was all too eager to oblige.

“Kevin, I…I’m getting so hot.” his love moaned.

“Good,” he told her, “because I’m going to need more than this.”

Lucy couldn’t see it from her position, but Kevin already had a full-fledged boner urging him on. Whether it was a product of pent up sexual energy or the act of gorging on his wife’s pussy, he was very aroused and in need of his wife’s sex.

After giving her folds one last tender lick, Kevin rose up from the floor and got on top of her. He ended up pinning her right on the floor, the dirty wood pressing up against her naked flesh. She didn’t seem to mind, though. She kept her legs fully spread, took him in her arms, and pulled him on top of her so that her ample breasts pressed up against his chest.

“Kevin…take me,” Lucy told him. “Give me what you need…what we both need.”

Her words echoed with the same desperation he felt in every fiber of his being. It was no longer about having overdue sex with his wife. It was about fulfilling an unmet need for both of them.

Driven and determined like never before, Kevin grabbed hold of her thighs and guided his erect dick into her waiting vagina. The feeling of their flesh melding, his hard masculine flesh entering her moist womanly depths, was intoxicating – a once cold void filled with a powerful new heat. It sent him deeper into his daze and Lucy gladly followed.

“Feeling better yet, love?” she purred.

“Ohhh Lucy!” was all Kevin got out.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

She laughed and playfully kissed him, trailing her lips down his face and neck. That encouraged Kevin even more. Lucy had never been a slow and steady kind of girl when it came to sex. She liked it rough. They both did. It was the most potent manifestation of their love for one another.

He made it a point to be extra potent, working his hips and pumping his member inside her tight flesh with great vigor. Their naked bodies rocked and writhed on the floor within the narrow hallway. Kevin couldn’t recall how long it had been since they mopped the area. If it hadn’t been dirty before, they were certainly making it dirty, the sweat and crime of their bodies mixing in a growing pool of passion.

The added effort paid off sooner than expected. After a good dose of hard, focused humping, Lucy’s moans got louder. The writhing and movements of her body intensified. She was already on the brink of orgasm. He knew the signs and Lucy was rarely subtle about it.

“Harder, Kevin! Do it harder! I’m going to…come!” she moaned.

Kevin adjusted his body slightly, rising up so that he could hump her at a different angle. He intensified the pace, watching as her breasts bounced with each thrust, her sweaty flesh grinding against the floor. It was such a beautiful, erotic sight…one that became a noisy spectacle as he sent her over the edge.

“Oohhh Kevin!” she cried out.

The hallways did little to contain the sounds of such ecstasy. He watched in awe as Lucy arched her lower back, closed her eyes, and grasped her breasts as she climaxed right there on the dirty floor. He even slowed his movements so that he could enjoy every second of it.

That might have been the quickest he’d ever brought his wife to orgasm and for someone who claimed she could get herself off with an electric toothbrush, that was saying something. While it was relatively easy to make Lucy come, leaving her satisfied was more challenging. He was more than up to the task, though.

“You really did need that,” Kevin teased, still panting heavily from their sex.

“Yeah…no need to prove it this time,” she said.

“Still…couldn’t hurt to be sure,” he said coyly.

In another show of his burning needs, he withdrew his cock from her still-throbbing vagina, shifted his grip to her waist, and turned her over so that she was on all fours. Still clearly drunk on orgasmic bliss, Lucy did not resist in the slightest. She even shook her heart-shaped ass a bit, as if he needed more tempting at that point.

“Go on,” she said. “Be as sure as you want!”

“I intend to do nothing less!” Kevin told her.

Licking his lips in anticipation, he positioned himself behind her, propped on one knee with his right foot planted firmly on the floor. He then grabbed hold of his wife’s wonderfully round butt, guided his still-rigid cock to her outer folds, and thrust it back into her. From here, he resumed their sex, now with more leverage and even more motivation to fulfill his own needs.

Again, he pumped his cock within her tight folds. It was intense, vigorous, and focused. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt echoed through the hall, the feeling of the floor sticking to their sweaty flesh. Lucy even supplemented his movements, bucking her hips so that their bodies moved in a harmonious symphony of sincere love and pent-up lust.

Need mixed with desire and desire became pleasure…intense, overwhelming pleasure that escalated rapidly. Kevin usually preferred drawing out sex with Lucy. He liked to savor it as much as possible. For the sake of completing an overdue feeling, he made an exception and pushed towards his waiting peak.

“Lucy…I’m close…so close! I need it…so bad!” he said through increasingly labored grunts.

“Do it, my love,” Lucy told him. “Come…meet your need with me.”

He did it harder, working closer and closer to his goal. Lucy did her part too, rising up and guiding his hands to her breasts, allowing him to squeeze them for that final drive into ecstasy. It did the trick. He got what he needed.

“Ohhh Lucy!” he gasped, mirroring the words and passion she’d voiced earlier.

Like a warm wave washing over an arid desert, a surge of bliss erupted from within. His dick throbbed, his face contorted, and his muscles tensed in accord with his release. His manly fluid mixed with her feminine juices in a pool of shared passion, a literal manifestation of the lust and love they had expressed in a narrow hallway of all places.

As he soaked in that feeling, he captured Lucy’s lips in another kiss. Eventually, their naked bodies parted and they found themselves sitting with their backs against the wall – still naked, yet very relaxed.

It was beautiful, pleasurable, and exhilarating. After a week of work, stress, and pressure, it was the perfect counter. Kevin went from frustrating restlessness to utter contentment in record time. It was all thanks to having such an amazing wife, one who knew how to fulfill a need and be extra sexy in the process.

“What a way to end a long week,” Kevin said with a beaming smile.

“Amen to that!” said Lucy.

“Work sucks, but when you’ve got someone you love to come home to…someone who doesn’t mind being naked as soon as the door opens.”

“Don’t say it’s worth it. Work shouldn’t be the only reason why you come home to make love to your wife.”

“It’s not,” he said as he affectionately embraced her. “I was going to say it reminds you that no matter how hectic the rest of life gets, you can still get so much with the simplest, sexiest basics.”

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Daily Sexy Musings: Underneath Our Clothes

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The following are some of my sexy musings to help start your day, among other things. Enjoy!

We’re all naked underneath our clothes. Thin layers of fabric separate modesty from obscenity. We go outside every day, knowing that our most private areas are protected only by the attire we choose. We never give it a second thought, but we cover ourselves, as though exposure will bring us irreparable harm.

We come out of the womb blissfully unaware of all taboos. We simply seek warmth from the elements and nothing more. There is purpose to covering ourselves, but it gets lost as we grow into a world afraid of its own reflection, aghast at what the sight of our bodies may evoke. Is it out of fear? Is it out of uncertainty as to how we’ll react? We don’t know, but we never bother to ask.

Perhaps it’s because it makes us horny, wanting sensual experiences that go beyond what society deems appropriate.

Perhaps it’s because it makes us complacent, realizing that every person is equally vulnerable at the end of the day. No matter their race, creed, wealth, or status, they are as frail as any animal in the wild.

Perhaps it’s because it reminds us that we are conditioned to avert our eyes, avoiding vanity and the thoughts that go with it. There is danger in self-obsession, large and small. How are we to function when we are too captivated by our own beauty?

At the end of every day, we are still naked. Our skin, genitals and all, are there for us to see. We cannot avoid them. We can only make excuses, but never valid reasons. The mirror still reveals everything, unfiltered and unobscured. Dread it or embrace it. One will bring acceptance. The other will only bring more excuses.

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