Profiles In Noble Masculinity: Robocop

robocop

Even in an era where masculinity has gained way too many negative connotations, there’s plenty of room for men who distinguish themselves in respectable, honorable ways. There are countless male characters in popular culture who attempt to set themselves apart. Sometimes, it brings out the worst in men. Sometimes, it brings out the best.

I’ve made a concerted effort to focus on the best aspects of masculinity. To date, I’ve profiled two characters, Joel from “The Last of Us” and Hank Hill from “King of the Hill.” I’ve cited both characters as examples of noble masculinity. It manifests in different forms, but it helps bring a unique strength to their characters.

They have a wide range of traits, some of which aren’t distinctly masculine. When those manly characteristics do emerge, though, they don’t just reveal the greater subtleties in who they are. They demonstrate just how powerful masculinity can be when it’s channeled. In that spirit, I’d like to highlight another character who channels that kind of masculinity in a way that’s compelling, memorable, and full of memorable one-liners.

That character’s name is Alex J. Murphy of the Detroit Police Department, but most know him as Robocop. He’s not just a cop who got caught up in a greedy corporation’s agenda. He’s not just a man in a machine carrying out the duties of a cop. When you take in the entirety of Robocop’s story, including the Jesus connotations, you find a character whose masculinity shines even in the R-rated violence that is Detroit.

Now, before I go any further, I want to establish that the version of “Robocop” I’m citing here is the original 1987 version played by Peter Weller. This profile will not draw from the 2014 “Robocop” played by Joel Kinnaman. I’m not saying that version of the character is without merit. I enjoyed that movie. However, it did not come close to demonstrating the level of noble masculinity that the original conveyed.

On the surface, the original “Robocop” wasn’t that groundbreaking for its time. Stories about urban decay and dystopian cities were already popular thanks to movies like “The Terminator” and “Blade Runner.” In terms of substance, though, “Robocop” achieved something profound in terms of crafting a memorable male character.

The core of Alex Murphy’s character, even before he became Robocop, is that he’s a good, honorable man in a city that doesn’t have many of them. This version of Detroit, which is sadly very similar to the real-world version, is full of deviant criminals and corrupt business types. The very company that creates Robocop, Omni Consumer Products, is full of ruthless individuals who see crime only as a hindrance to profits.

A man like Alex Murphy is a precious rarity in that world. As such, it doesn’t take long for it to get snuffed out. On Murphy’s first day on the job, he’s callously killed by a gang of sociopath criminals led by Clarence Boddicker. All that innate nobility and idealism Murphy had was literally shot to death within the first twenty minutes of the movie.

However, that was not the end of Alex Murphy’s story. It was only the beginning. When he’s turned into Robocop by OCP, who see him only as a means to further their business plan, the extent of the noble masculinity he portrays only grows. The fact it does so while he cleans up Detroit’s rampant crime is a nice bonus as well.

From the moment he awakens as Robocop, we see what looks to be only a shell of a man. In fact, OCP goes out of their way to remove as much of the man as possible, not bothering to salvage his hand or anything below the neck. The only part of Alex Murphy they keep is his brain and part of his face.

It’s a total deconstruction of a man, ripping away the very flesh that makes him masculine and yes, that includes his genitals. To OCP, he’s a machine who just happens to run on human parts. They try to filter out the humanity in hopes of creating an obedient commodity that they can then mass produce, market, and utilize for profit.

It’s dehumanization to an extreme, more so than what characters like Wolverine endured. For a brief while, it looks like OCP succeeds. Initially, Robocop carries himself like a machine, confronting Detroit’s worst criminals with an efficiency that wasn’t possible as Alex Murphy. He could’ve become a perfect example of reducing all men to machines, devoid of emotion and focused only on a task at hand.

Then, the story takes a more human turn and Robocop suddenly becomes more man than machine. Despite everything OCP took from him, including his body and his free will, Alex Murphy still emerged. Even after everything that made him a man was deconstructed, literally in some cases, he fought to regain control.

In the process, we get to see Robocop learn about the man he used to be. We see glimpses of his life as a father and a husband. We find out just how good a man he was to his wife and his son. It contrasts heavily to the ruthless criminals and callous business people that affect much of the story. That’s critical in terms of establishing Robocop as someone who conveys a heroic brand of masculinity.

From the outside perspective of the audience, Alex Murphy’s home life seems mundane and even a little corny. However, when put into the context of a crime-ridden urban dystopia, it becomes instrumental in elevating Robocop’s sense of duty. They make his prime directives more than just base programming. By adding Murphy’s humanity into the mix, they gain greater meaning.

It’s an inherently masculine trait, protecting those who cannot otherwise protect themselves. Murphy already embodied that trait because he was a cop and a family man. However, he could only accomplish so much on his own, as his fatal encounter with Boddicker proved.

By becoming Robocop, that role is elevated because technically speaking, he’s better equipped than any man has ever been. He’s got a human mind, but he has a robot body, complete with bullet-proof skin and the ability to shoot with inhuman accuracy. Instead of stripping him of his masculinity and his humanity, becoming a robot actually enhanced it.

That, more than anything, is what elevates Robocop’s noble masculinity to another level. An act that should’ve utterly dehumanized him ended up making his humanity even stronger. It had to be in order to overcome OCP’s control and uncover the plot to exploit him as just another product. The fact that OCP tries and fails in the sequel to recreate him further reinforces just how unique Robocop is.

Through that journey from utter masculine deconstruction to total reaffirmation of his identity, the line between Robocop and Alex Murphy blurs. The line between carrying out noble acts and following basic programming blurs as well. In the end, Robocop isn’t just a machine following a program. He’s a man inside a machine, doing the same job he did as a man, but with much better weapons and more memorable catch phrases.

Robocop” is hailed as a classic for many reasons. Robocop, as a character, continues to be an icon, despite sub-par sequels and a failed reboot. I think a big part of that appeal comes directly from how the first movie managed to portray the best traits of masculinity within a setting where the worst often thrived.

Even in a contemporary context, beyond the current state of Detroit, Robocop conveys a powerful message that men and women alike can appreciate. You can put a good man in the worst situation, destroying and deconstructing him at every level. That same man will find a way to re-emerge and do what needs to be done.

It’s a testament to the strength of manhood and our willingness to protect innocents in an unjust world. Robocop combines the spirit of a man with the power of a machine. One need not subvert the other. In fact, one can supplement the other and, dead or alive, the criminal element of any gender doesn’t stand a chance.

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Filed under gender issues, media issues, movies, noble masculinity, political correctness, psychology

Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Functioning Air Conditioner Edition

3a43a5ad804242152de7fd160d7e19d4-sexy-men-hot-menHowever, there are times when summer isn’t quite as relaxing. I learned that the hard way a couple years ago when my air conditioner broke just in time for the first heat wave of the year. It wasn’t a simple mechanical problem either. The whole system flat out died on me and had to be replaced. It wasn’t just insanely costly. It ensured I was stuck in a hot, muggy house for nearly an entire week.

It’s not a very pleasant memory, to say the least. Air conditioning is one of those wondrous modern amenities that we all take for granted. Even in the biggest heat waves, we can find relief in our air conditioned homes or cars. For most of human history, we didn’t have that luxury. When it got hot out, you just endured it. I like to think that the invention if air conditioning made it possible to really enjoy summer for all its worth.

To honor this modern wonder, as well as those whose job it is to keep these inventions going, I hereby dedicate this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to the joys of having functional air conditioning. If you’re unlucky enough not to have one, I hope these sensual musings give you some comfort as you endure overpriced repairs. Enjoy!


“It’s ironic that pulling out requires self-control while not pulling out incurs danger, both of which are traits women find sexy.”


“The potential discomfort of anal sex gains a very different context for any woman who has given birth.”


“The difference between a tender kiss and foreplay is akin to the difference between a sip of whine and a shot of bourbon.”


“There’s no polite way to ask a woman whether she’s horny, but there are countless possible ways to tell when a man is horny.”


“When you think about it, allowing your lover to shave your pubic hair is one of the greatest acts of trust.”


“Sweet talk may get your lover out of their clothes, but dirty talk will keep them in your bed.”


“A couple watching porn together can either be an act of romance or an act of research.”


To all those lucky enough to have a functioning air conditioner this time of year, I urge you to counter your blessings and offer sympathy to anyone who isn’t so lucky. Also, take the time to thank the brave men and women who repair those units during this time of year. They, along with the bartenders serving margaritas on the beach, are the real heroes of summer.

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“The Mechanic” A Sexy Short Story

6cb1d8e6a4af87d5ab5e22811801b66dThe following is a sexy short story I wrote that involves car troubles, sexy mechanics, and a bad day that becomes a great day. I got the idea while dealing with some car troubles of my own. I hope the inspiration shows. Enjoy!

“God damn this piece of shit car!” exclaimed Sadie Harper at the top of her lungs.

It was official. The past four hours had been the worst of her adult life, including the time she threw up at her best friend’s wedding. In a fit of anger, she hit the hood of the butt-ugly coupe that left her stranded on the curb of the highway just hours after sunset and with storm clouds rolling in. It felt like every conceivable force in the universe had conspired against her.

“Why now of all times? Why are you doing this to me?” she groaned, kicking the tire of her car in a fit of rage. “It’s not enough I splurged five hundred bucks on new tires. Now…at a time when I just wanted to fucking get away…this happens. What the fuck did I do to deserve this?”

Sadie would’ve started crying if she weren’t so pissed. She ended up leaning over the hood of her car, catching her breath and clinging to whatever sanity she had left. It didn’t help that she heard more thunder in the distance. It was going to start pouring rain at any minute. She could feel it. That would act as a frustratingly fitting cap to the terrible day she was having.

That day was largely the byproduct of an equally terrible week. It started six days ago when she found out that the promotion she thought she’d been promised at the marking company she worked for was given to someone else – someone who happened to be a friend of the Vice President’s sister, no less. She’d made it very clear to her boss that she needed that job because she was still drowning in college debt. She couldn’t remember the excuse he’d given her, but she vividly recalled punching paper towel dispenser in the ladies room.

If that weren’t bad enough, she found out the very next day that her boyfriend of the past two years – the same boyfriend she’d been living with and relying on as she managed her debt, no less – had been cheating on her. It led to a fight that lasted several days, complete with her throwing his laptop out a window, and ended with her moving out.

That scene she made went crawling back to her parents – who she hadn’t gotten along with lately, thanks largely to her moving in with her boyfriend – had been one of the pathetic moments of her life. Even though they let her stay in the basement, they made clear that they weren’t going to solve her problems for her. She had to pull herself out from her rut.

Things finally started looking up when her oldest friend, Jessica, who lived about 300 miles away near the beach, offered to let her stay with her for an extra-long weekend. The goal, according to her, was to decompress. The only obstacle was making that 300 mile drive, but even that proved too much.

“I should stop asking myself these dumb questions,” Sadie said, looking at her reflection in the hood of her car. “I know why I ended up this screwed. I got so lucky early in life. I actually convinced myself that luck and normal were the same thing.”

Holding her head low, Sadie shook her head and groaned. She remembered vividly how her mother used to say that she’d gotten more advantages than most and not just because she inherited her good looks. She’d been in a number of situations – relationships, jobs, and various predicaments – that could’ve easily gone against her. Her mother, who had a gambling problem in her youth, told her that luck always runs out eventually.

Being the arrogant little brat she was, Sadie chose to shrug it off. She still chose to take on huge debts in college. She chose to hook up with a guy who’d cheated on his last two girlfriends. She chose to buy a used car from someone who’d claimed to have given her a huge discount. She’d worked under the assumptions that all of those choices would work out like so many others. Now, it felt like her luck had completely flipped.

“Good looks, good family, a great school…everything just came so effortlessly,” she said. “Any time I wanted a break, I got it. I know luck always runs out at some point. I just wish it didn’t have to happen now.”

The timing really couldn’t have been worse and not just because of the weather. Approximately 150 miles into her trip – the least convenient time to have car troubles, no less – the check engine light in her car came on. At first, she ignored it, hoping it was something minor. Then, she heard a dreadful pop in her engine, causing the car to stall and forcing her to pull over on a patch of unfamiliar highway.

As Sadie lamented her situation, she felt some raindrops on her face. She then looked up at the sky to see flashes of lightning. This was not going to be a simple drizzle and she was not dressed for bad weather. She wore a tank top and jean shorts, having expected to be relaxing at the beach by sundown. Given the state of her car, she’d be lucky to end up anywhere relaxing.

“Rain…figures,” she said. “I swear if I get just one little break now, I won’t take it for granted!”

Sadie kept looking up at the sky, begging whatever higher power might have been listening to grant her some mercy. The rain just fell harder, followed by more lightning. She was ready to accept the fact that there would be no luck coming her way for once.

Then, she heard a loud truck horn honk in the distance. Turning away from the sky, she saw a large tow-truck approaching. It slowed down as it drew near, allowing other cars to pass behind it. When it pulled up to her, Sadie let out her first sigh of relief.

“It’s not much, but I’ll take it,” she said.

The truck pulled over, stopping just in front of her car. As the rain fell a bit steadier, Sadie watched as the driver’s door of the truck opened and a man stepped out. Upon seeing his appearance in the stormy weather, another kind of relief took over.

“Okay, I’ll take that too,” Sadie said, managing a partial grin.

She wasn’t sure whether he was a typical tow-truck driver, but the man was pretty damn attractive. He looked only slightly older than her, wearing a baseball cap that covered long unkempt hair that perfectly matched an unshaven face. He was tall, well-muscled with broad shoulders, and had the kind of rugged disposition most would expect of someone who got his hands dirty for a living.

As he approached her, she could smell a potent combination of sweat, motor oil, and dirt. He was a stark contrast from her ex-boyfriend, who spent as much time grooming himself as any self-conscious woman she’d ever known. Between that and him arriving just before the storm, Sadie found him very attractive.

“Hi! I’m Dave Johns,” he greeted her. “You Sadie Harper?”

“Yeah, that’s me…unfortunately,” she replied with a half-grin. “Thanks for getting her so soon.”

“No problem,” Dave replied with a smile. “In this weather, you got to be quick. You don’t want to be stuck out on these roads during a storm, especially a pretty girl like you.”

She gave him a full grin that time, her first in over a week. Dave sounded like one of those overly polite mid-western, complete with a slight accent and shirt bearing NASCAR logo. He was the kind of guy who probably didn’t go to the same overpriced college she had, which meant he probably didn’t have her crippling debt either. That only made him more attractive.

“Hold tight,” he told her. “I’ll get your car hooked up fast and we’ll be on our way to the nearest repair garage. Whatever’s wrong, they’ll fix it up.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said, still smiling. “I’ve had such a god-awful day…and a god-awful week, for that matter. My car breaking down is just the icing on the cake.”

“A breakdown never helps anything,” he said. “I just hope your week wasn’t too bad.”

“Well, I lost out on a big promotion, fell even further behind on my college debt, found out my boyfriend was cheating on me, had to move back in with my parents, and broke down 150 miles from my nearest friend. On top of that, I’m pretty sure the repair bill for this car will ruin my credit forever so. Depending on your standard for bad, I’d say I’m pretty damn close.”

Dave looked over at her from the car and gave her an astonished look. He might not have believed her at first, but Sadie had always been a lousy liar. Between her tone and her demeanor, she made it abundantly clear that she was not exaggerating. Her week had really been that bad.

“Well, by my standards, I say you definitely exceed them,” Dave said.

“And given my current streak of luck, it’ll probably get worse before it gets better,” Sadie sighed, “which is why I apologize ahead of time if I act like a total bitch from here on out.”

“That’s all right. Nobody is in a good mood after their car breaks down. I understand.”

“I appreciate that, Dave, but I’m not sure I deserve understanding at this point.”

“That’s just your mood talking. Things can turn around fast in these parts. You never know.”

He almost sounded too hopeful. Then again, in an area so remote and far from home, at least someone had to be hopeful. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be her.

Despite the rain picking up, Dave worked fast. He seemed to move with greater urgency as he hooked her car up to the tow truck. In less than five minutes, they were ready to go and just in time too. The rain really started pouring. She was already shivering in her tank top and shorts. She couldn’t get into the truck fast enough.

Once inside, though, her spirits didn’t improve by much. However long it took to get to the nearest repair shop, Sadie expected the day to get worse. For all she knew, the engine was completely shot and she would be stranded, either having to rent a car or stay at a motel. Having barely had enough money for gas and food, she dreaded having to call her parents for a loan.

“Shouldn’t be more than a half-hour to the shop,” Dave told her upon starting the engine. “It’s right next to a strip mall and a motel too, just in case you need to stay the night.”

“Thanks, but that’s probably too fancy for me,” Sadie said, now staring out the window. “Between my credit card balance and that popping noise I heard in the engine, I’ll be begging on the streets for a cardboard box by sundown.”

An awkward silence fell over the truck. Dave was sweet and handsome, but he hadn’t endured the kind of day she’d just experienced. She had already taken so much frustration out on her car. The last thing she wanted to do was take it out on a nice, attractive man who didn’t deserve it.

With howling winds and loud thunder echoing overhead, they started driving. For the first five minutes or so, neither of them said a word. Sadie just rested her head on the window, dreading how much worse things would get before they got better. At the rate she was going, she’d crash face-first into rock bottom before she got another break.

Eventually, Dave broke the silence.

“Just out of curiosity, what kind of popping noise in the engine did you hear?” he asked her.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I know as much about cars as I do about rocket ships. I doubt I could make sense of it.”

“So try anyways,” he said. “Was it steady? Like popcorn going off one at a time? Or was it abrupt like a tire blowing out?”

Sadie thought about it for a moment. She wasn’t sure why Dave even asked. She doubted she could even answer correctly at that point. Never-the-less, she made an effort.

“More like the first one, I guess,” she told him. “It was steady. I could feel the engine struggling each time. I thought it might blow up any second.”

“That’s not how engines work,” Dave said.

“On a day like this, I just can’t take chances. When all the good luck you’ve ever had just starts kicking your ass, you just got to assume the worst and brace yourself.”

“That’s…a tough way to live.”

“Which is why I’m already bracing myself,” she said.

Sadie kept staring out the window, not wanting Dave to see the pathetic look on her face. The last thing she needed was to break down in front of a stranger, let alone an attractive man. She was content to remain silent for the rest of the trip if she could avoid then.

Then, after a particularly loud burst of thunder, Dave slowed down somewhat.

“Sadie,” he said. “About four miles up ahead, there’s an old visitors center with an empty parking garage. It’s been closed for a month because of renovation. I doubt anyone is there in this weather.”

“And you’re telling me this…why?” Sadie asked.

“Because that’s the nearest place where I can pull in and check your car,” Dave told her. “From you told me, it sounds like you just got a damaged spark plug. If that’s all it is, then I might be able to fix it right then and there…no expensive repair, no hanging out at the shop, and no bracing for the worst.”

Sadie looked over at the man next to her as though he’d just offered to perform free brain surgery. There was no way she’d just heard right. A man – a total stranger who’d she just hired to tow her car – offered to fix it for her. It sounded like the lucky break she needed, but after the day she had, she remained cautious.

“Really?” she said, trying to contain her fragile spirits. “You…you’d do that for me?”

“Well, the way I see it, you’re having such a bad day and it’ll only get worse until someone or something changes,” Dave told her. “In these parts, we don’t have much control over the something. We do have control over the someone, though. If you can be that someone, then why shouldn’t you try?”

“That sounds way too logical,” Sadie said, “especially to a girl who hasn’t had to try that hard before.”

“Is that a yes or a no? It’s still up to you.”

It sounded like a chance and at a time when pushing her luck seemed like the worst possible recourse, for that matter. Looking at Dave, though – that greasy hair, big muscles, and demeanor – Sadie felt inclined to take that risk, however bad it might turn out.

“It’s a yes!” she said. “I swear, if you can fix my car, Dave…I don’t know how I’ll begin to thank you.”

“Only one way to find out, I guess,” he said with a confident tone that made her heart skip a beat.

The next four miles went by in a blur. Just as he said, there was a visitor’s center along the highway and it was empty, aside from a bunch of construction equipment. Near as she could tell, there was nobody there. On a nicer day, it probably would’ve been swarming with contractors and road workers.

Dave pulled in, accessing a service exit that had been partially coned off. Whether or not that was legal seemed like a relevant question, but Sadie wasn’t about to ask. He then drove the tow truck into the small, two-level parking garage behind the center. It was empty, but out of the rain.

Once inside, Dave went to work once more, showing the same urgency as earlier. He turned off his truck, lowered the crane in the back, and popped the hood of her car. All Sadie could do was stand back, watch, and hug her shoulders in anticipation.

“Just give me a sec,” Dave said. “My buddy back home had a car just like this. He kept that thing running way longer than most. This thing doesn’t even have 100,000 miles on it yet. If it’s in as good a condition as it looks…”

“Please, Dave,” she said, cutting him off, “I’d rather not jinx it.”

“Ah, good idea.”

Sadie began pacing, watching the heavy rain falling in the distance. The winds settled somewhat, but the storm didn’t look ready to let up anytime soon. If Dave couldn’t fix her car, then that would only compound her problems. A great deal of her current situation, misfortune and all, depended on a total stranger – a tall, handsome stranger no less – being able to change her luck.

She didn’t even pretend to know what he was doing whenever he retrieved some tools from his truck. She didn’t keep track of time either, worried that every passing second negatively impacted her chances. She could only wait with baited breath, hoping for the best while still bracing herself for the worst.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dave emerged from under the hood.

“I knew it!” he said. “It was a damaged spark plug.”

“Seriously?” said Sadie with sudden intrigue. “A spark plug? As in only one?”

“Yep!” he said proudly. “And as it just so happens, I got a spare from a set my brother gave me. It ain’t the fancy kind, but it’ll get you running again. You’ll be able to finish your trip and make it back.”

Sadie was speechless. She stood frozen in space, her mouth agape as Dave finished the job. With a demeanor worthy of a triumphant warrior, he retrieved a spare spark plug from his truck. Then, using a couple of tools, he replaced it in just a few minutes. Looking certain of his work, he closed the trunk and used the keys she’d given him to start her car. Much to her relief and amazement, the popping sound was gone. It ran just as well as before, if not better.

“There you have it,” Dave said with an accomplished grin as he tossed her the keys. “The check engine light is gone. Looks like you’re good to go, Sadie.”

“Dave, I…” the young woman stammered, already at a loss for words.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he told her. “It was a little thing…something I just happened to be there to fix.”

“But…I don’t even know if I can pay you,” she said, still frozen in place. “I know I got charged for the tow, but this is just too much! It’s…”

Dave then put his hand up to silence her, still smiling as though he were the lucky one. Something about that just made him even more attractive.

“Before you go calling that luck, just remember that luck only applies when you don’t have a choice,” David said. “I was here, I made that choice, and we’re both in a better place because of it.”

“Both?” she questioned.

“Of course,” he said. “The way I see it, I made my job easier by saving myself a trip to the nearest town. Plus, I fixed a car and helped a pretty lady. In my line of work, that counts as a damn good day.”

He spoke like someone who’d just one the state championship. In Sadie’s world, little things like that didn’t make a good day. There always had to be something more elaborate…something that made a bigger impact overall. By that measure, Dave didn’t achieve much. He just fixed her car. In Sadie’s eyes, though, he’d just saved her soul, her sanity, and everything in between.

Having not forgotten her earlier lamentations, which included a promise to not take lucky breaks for granted, an idea popped into the young woman’s mind as she stood before Dave. It soon led to a choice of her own.

“Dave…thank you.”

Then, in an act that caught him by surprise, for once, she threw her arms around his him, pulled him into a strong embrace, and kissed him hard on the lips. She didn’t care that he smelled like motor oil, grease, and sweat. If anything, that turned her on even more.

Dave was a bit surprised at first, but it didn’t take long for him to start kissing back. It didn’t stop there, though. As she savored his lips with hers, she eagerly pressed her body up against his, communicating a potent mix of gratitude and desire.

“Uh…you’re welcome?” Dave said with an awkward grin as their lips parted.

“Wasn’t done,” she told him. “In fact, I’m just getting started!”

To further her point, she kissed him again, but supplemented it by grabbing his hand and guided it to her breast. She also snuck her hand down over his pants, feeling just over his crotch to help get the blood flowing in the right direction.

A man who’d done that much for her on such a terrible day deserved more than just a kiss and a hug. Sadie was going to make Dave feel as lucky as her. He embraced that luck as much as her, offering no resistance as she led him towards the hood of her car. Along the way, she removed her tank top and bra, which had become too wet for comfort anyway. Once off, she guided both hands to her fleshy mounds.

“Here…feel my tits,” she said, urging him to rub them.

“Dang…those are nice,” Dave said, already sounding drunk on lust.

“Enjoy them while I get you out of those dirty pants!”

That came off as more aggressive and seductive than she’d expected, especially after the day she’d had. It was only fitting, though. Dave made the extra effort for her. It was only fair that she do the same for him.

As he enjoyed fondling her breasts, Sadie made quick work of his belt buckle and jeans. They were loose, dirty, and had multiple oil stains. That didn’t bother her, though. As soon as they were down at his ankles, along with his underwear, she dropped to her knees to focus on his cock. In another striking turn of luck, Dave was very well-endowed.

“Have a seat,” she told him. “Let me thank you properly.”

“Properly…sure,” Dave said with a goofy grin.

Now sitting on the hood of her car, Sadie wasted no time in giving the rugged, mechanically-inclined man the best oral sex she’d ever given. Grasping the base of his shaft with both hands, she hungrily took in his entire length and began sucking, trailing her lips and tongue along his manly flesh.

It was somewhat striking since Sadie didn’t usually put that much effort into giving blowjobs. With her ex-boyfriend, it had just been a necessary part of the process. She didn’t necessarily despise it, but she’d never felt overly eager to suck a dick. That all changed with Dave. She treated sucking his cock with the same urgency as he’d shown with her car.

“Ohhh Sadie!” he moaned. “That feels so good!”

Leaning back on her car, moaning blissfully, encouraged Sadie. His pleasure was a tangible sign that her gratitude was being conveyed, but she still wasn’t done.

As she stepped up the pace of her oral teasing, she undid her jean short and reached into her panties to find that she was already getting wet. In the spirit of the urgency, she fingered her moist folds to accelerate her arousal. She could already feel Dave’s cock throbbing in her mouth. Looking up at him, she sensed he wanted more. Moreover, she wanted to give him more.

Once certain that they were both aroused, she gave his dick one last lick and shot up to her feet. She then pulled her shorts down, panties and all, rendering her naked and exposed in the dank parking garage with the storm still raging outside. Having never had sex outside a bedroom or a living room, something about that feeling just excited her to no end.

“Fuck me, Dave,” she told him. “Fuck me over the hood of my car.”

“That’s…a hell of a way to thank a guy,” he said with a lustful grin.

“It’s not just gratitude. It’s me not taking for granted the lucky turn I’ve enjoyed.”

Whether or not he agreed with her logic seemed irrelevant now. Like a man who’d just won the jackpot, Dave got up from the car and took her in those strong, burly arms of hers. Sadie instinctively jumped him, allowing him to catch her naked body in mid-air. As she smothered his rugged complexion with more kisses, he set her down on the hood of her car, her butt making contact with the wet surface that she’d been angrily pounding with her fist earlier.

Moving with the same intent that she’d shown while giving him oral sex, Dave positioned himself between her legs, holding them wide open as he guided his cock to her wet entrance. As soon as she felt the tip brush against her wet folds, he thrust his hips forward, driving his manly flesh up into her depths.

“Sadie…so hot and tight,” Dave grunted.

“That’s it, Dave!” she told him. “Give it to me! Do it to me!”

Those same powerful hands that fixed her car clung harder to her thighs as he began fucking her, working his hips back and forth, pumping his rigid manhood within her tight depths. Sadie’s body and her world rocked in accord with each movement. There was so much power and strength in his thrusts, each act exuding a kind of unfiltered manliness the likes of which she never experienced at her overpriced college.

It was so hot, his strength projecting into her through their sex. It didn’t matter that the winds from the storm blew through the garage or that the hood of her car was so wet from the rain. It unleashed in Sadie a wild lust that felt so cathartic, especially after the week she’d had.

“Yes! Oh yes! Ohhh Dave!” Sadie cried out through successive moans. “So strong…so tough…I love it!”

Dave replied only with focused, manly grunts. That just sent her instincts into overdrive. At one point, she even reached up, grabbed his dirty shirt, and pulled it off over her head, revealing an ungroomed chest covered in masculine sinews. It was enough to overwhelm her senses to the point of ecstasy, that raw strength and manpower sending her to orgasm.

“I’m coming, Dave! I’m coming!” she cried out. “Please…keep…fucking me!”

When the feeling struck, it coincided with a flash of lighting and a loud round of thunder. That didn’t matter, though. Even the loudest sounds of nature couldn’t mute her cries of ecstasy.

Sadie still arched her back, squeezed her bouncing breasts, and led out the kind of orgasmic moan that she wanted the heavens to hear. The heat that had been building in her core turned to a white hot flame of ecstasy that spread throughout her body, turning the muggy air into an aura of contentment. The way Dave responded, gazing upon her with a mix of awe and affection, made it all the more satisfying.

He slowed down to let her enjoy her orgasm, but did not cease their heated sex. He kept pumping his rigid flesh into her, conveying his strength and his lust with every movement. Sadie gladly adjusted and shifted her body to accommodate his lustful whims, hitching her legs up higher so he could fuck her at a faster pace. She even got on her side at one point so he could fuck her at an angle.

Sadie remained committed to helping her generous, mechanically-inclined companion achieve the same orgasm she’d felt. That eventually led her to being bent over the hood of her car, her breasts pressing right up against the wet surface while he fucked her from behind, holding her left leg up slightly to get in at just the right angle. That seemed to give Dave the room he needed to achieve that same sweet bliss.

“Almost…there,” he grunted in between thrust. “Sadie…gonna come…soon!”

“Good!” Sadie said. “Want to…come on my…tits?”

“Yes, please!” Dave said without hesitation.

Sadie grinned to herself. With the way he’d been fondling her breasts earlier, she surmised he’d enjoy that. She’d learned with her ex-boyfriend how men liked to communicate their sexy quirks. For a man who’d made the worst day of her life memorable for all the right reasons, he deserved nothing less.

After a bit more hard thrusting, Dave promptly withdrew his cock from her pussy and pulled her in closer so that his dick was aligned with her tits. Sadie, now gazing up at him with her most seductive glance, mashed her breasts together as he aimed his cock at her fleshy mounds.

In the midst of another round of thunder, the rugged man let out a deep moan that echoed throughout the garage as he released a thick load of cum onto her tits. It was messy, chaotic, and everything she used to avoid with her ex-boyfriend. Somehow, that made it all the more satisfying.

“A good man deserves more than luck,” Sadie found herself saying. “It’s the choices of others that make him feel lucky!”

She wasn’t sure whether he heard that, his face awash in pleasure from his orgasm. It still felt like something that needed to be said. She helped further her point by giving his throbbing cock a few more sensual licks, making sure his manly juices didn’t go to waste.

Now breathing heavily and awash in contentment, the Dave’s legs gave out and he sat down on the hood of the car. Her breasts still covered in his cum, she sat next. Now leaning on each other for support, they lingered there, naked and alone in a dirty garage with a storm raging all around them.

After so many things going wrong over the past week, it felt like more than another lucky break. It felt like a moment of clarity, one that came courtesy of an incredible, not-to-mention handsome man who’d made her day with a simple choice. The fact they had great sex was just a nice bonus.

“Now…can I say you’re welcome?” Dave said with a playful grin.

“Sure, Dave,” she said with a beaming grin. “I think I’ve thanked you enough for fixing my car.”

“Lucky me, eh?” he joked.

“Ha! Lucky indeed.”

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How To Disappoint (But NOT Destroy) An Iconic Romance In Batman #50

688356-_sx1280_ql80_ttd_It’s been a rough summer for fans of romance, superheroes, and superhero weddings. In fact, in all the years I’ve been reading comics and following romantic sub-plots, I can’t remember a time when there was this much melodrama and heartbreak. I understand that any epic romance is going to involve a healthy bit of emotional strain, especially when it involves superheroes. There comes a point when it just becomes too much.After the deconstruction and denigration of superhero romance that unfolded in X-men Gold #30, I feel like we’re dangerously close to that point. It’s as though everyone involved in making superhero comics is admitting that superheroes can’t get married. They can’t have a functional, compelling romance and still be interesting.That sort of sentiment is basically an affirmation of Marvel’s justification for undoing Spider-Man’s marriage to Mary Jane Watson in the infamous One More Day story. Given the relative infamy of that story line and the recent upheaval with the X-men, many fans of both superheroes and romance were placing a lot of hope that the wedding of Batman and Catwoman could help stop the bleeding in Batman #50.I certainly counted myself among those who was very excited about this event. I even admit I really wanted this to make up for the disheartening outcome of X-men Gold #30. The romantic in me wanted at least one superhero wedding this summer that didn’t end in heartbreak or tragedy.Well, if you saw the same spoilers in the New York Times that I did just two days before Batman #50 came out, you already know that’s not what happened. Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle did not get married. That means in terms of superhero weddings, the summer of 2018 is now 0 for 2.However, that outcome did not compound my lingering disappointment from X-men Gold #30. I’ll even go so far as to say that Batman #50 didn’t send the state of superhero romance past the point of no return. It didn’t improve the state of affairs. It was disappointing, but not to the point where it damaged a story or a romance beyond repair.Before I explain, I want to establish that many of the details beyond this point are heavy spoilers. Seeing as how this comic was already spoiled a couple days prior to its release, much to the chagrin of comic retailers, I don’t think I need to place too many warnings. I still recommend that people buy the comic, but there’s more going on here than a wedding that didn’t happen, much more so than what we saw in X-men Gold #30.By nearly every measure, Batman #50 approaches the concept of a superhero wedding differently than X-men Gold #30. The wedding of Kitty Pryde and Colossus was set up as this big, momentous affair between an established couple that overcame a lot just to have the opportunity to get married. They brought in friends, family, and fellow superheroes from across the X-men comics.In contrast, the ceremony in Batman #50 was very small. In fact, there wasn’t much of a ceremony to speak of. The only ones who were present besides Batman and Catwoman were Aflred, Bruce Wayne’s butler and long-time confidante, and a lone judge who was already drunk so that he wouldn’t remember his or Catwoman’s identity. Batman always has a plan for that sort of thing. That’s why he’s Batman.On top of that, Batman is the one who proposed to Catwoman back in Batman #24. He’s the one who pitched the idea of getting married in the first place. That’s critical because Kitty Pryde was the one who proposed to Colossus in X-men Gold #20. That matters because she’s also the one who broke it off and at the last second, no less. Things were a bit less cruel in Batman #50 and that’s saying something for a Batman comic.At one point in the story, Batman makes clear that he still wants to marry Catwoman. He’s not having second thoughts. It’s Catwoman who makes the fateful decision to break it off and she doesn’t wait until half-way through the ceremony, either. To put that another way, an admitted jewel thief who enjoys having sex on rooftops showed more decency than Kitty Pryde on her failed wedding day.It’s not a public spectacle that turns into an equally public debacle. It’s a private affair that simply doesn’t pan out. There’s no awkward reception. There’s no attempt to salvage it by shoehorning another romance into the mix just so someone gets married, as though such romances can be swapped out like batteries. It just doesn’t happen.Moreover, Catwoman actually gives a reason for not going through with the wedding and, unlike Kitty Pryde, it’s not a wholly contrived. She establishes throughout Batman #50, through a series of montages documenting their romance over the years, why she loves him and why he’s such an effective hero. In the process, she reveals something profound about Batman.What makes Batman both effective and iconic is how he takes the pain of a tragedy, namely the death of his parents, and turns it into strength. The same pain that would break a lesser man drives him to do so much more. He’s the Dark Knight who defends Gotham. He’s a hero who deserves to fight alongside demigods and aliens on the Justice League. For him to be Batman, he needs that pain to fuel him.From Catwoman’s perspective, Batman finding happiness means denying him the fuel he needs to be Batman. That’s not a realization that just randomly pops into her mind at the last second, though. This is something the Joker actually points out to her in Batman #49. It has less to do with whether or not she loves him and more to do with him being the hero that Gotham needs.That doesn’t make Catwoman’s decision any less disappointing, but it’s still nowhere near as callous or selfish as Kitty Pryde’s decision in X-men Gold #30. I know it’s somewhat unfair to keep comparing the two, given the different circumstances of their relationship, but those distinctions highlight an important element that the failed Batman/Catwoman wedding has that the Colossus/Kitty Pryde wedding didn’t.What happens in Batman #50 is definitely a setback for Batman and Catwoman’s relationship, but it doesn’t fundamentally destroy it. In fact, there’s a very critical detail at the end of the issue that leaves the door open for this romance to keep evolving. I won’t spoil it, but it unfolds in such a way that makes romance fans like me want to root for this relationship.The same definitely cannot be said for the Colossus/Kitty Pryde relationship. After the way things played out during their wedding, it really feels as though their romance is damaged beyond repair. It’s no longer a love story. It’s an outright tragedy, one that would need an even greater contrivance to repair at this point. In a universe with shape-shifting aliens, though, that’s not wholly unfeasible.In the grand scheme of things, Batman #50 is still disappointing in the sense that it doesn’t let Batman and Catwoman take their love story to another level. In fact, not a whole lot changes. The way it plays out feels more like a setback rather than a tragedy. The writer of the comic, Tom King, even claims it’s just part of a much larger narrative between Batman and Catwoman.How that story will play out remains to be seen. Given how long it took Batman and Catwoman to get to a point where they try to get married, Batman #50 already gives the impression that their romance is being dragged out. For a couple who has been off and on again since the 1940s, that’s saying something.If I had to score Batman #50, as both a comic book fan and a romance fan, I’d give it a 6 out of 10. It’s a bit of a letdown, but it’s not nearly as soul-crushing as X-men Gold #30. It still leaves the state of superhero romance in a very precarious state, but at the very least, this book gives me reason for hope.I’ll still be very skeptical of any future superhero wedding for the foreseeable future, though.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Marriage and Relationships, romance

The (Other) Implications Of The Technology In “Jurassic World”

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Movies and TV have a long and colorful history of predicting future technology. The predictions made by “The Simpsons,” alone, are as uncanny as they are creepy. Even when they get the basic laws of physics horribly wrong, they can provide insight into the trends that may very well define our future.

On the spectrum of movies that envision future technology, the “Jurassic Park” franchise occupies a strange part of that spectrum. The original movie, as beloved and successful as it is, did a poor job of predicting the potential of genetic engineering. The entire plot of the movie hinged on the ability of scientists to find sufficiently intact DNA from a 65-million-year-old mosquito and use that to recreate dinosaurs.

Anyone with a passing knowledge of math and the half-life of DNA knows that’s just not possible in the real world. No matter how well-preserved a fossil is, the bonds holding DNA together dissolve completely after about 7 million years so the scientists in “Jurassic Park” wouldn’t even have fragments to work with.

That’s not to say it’s impossible to bring back an extinct species. If you have intact DNA, and we do have it for extinct animals like Mammoths, then there’s no reason why science can’t recreate a creature that no longer exists. The only challenge is gestating the animal without a surrogate, but that’s just an engineering challenge that will likely be solved once artificial wombs are perfected.

Even with that advancement, it would be too late for dinosaurs. Technically, if you had enough working knowledge of how DNA works and how to create an animal from scratch, you could create something that looked like a dinosaur. In fact, it’s already a popular fan theory that none of the animals in “Jurassic Park” were actually dinosaurs. It’s one of the few fan theories that might have been confirmed on screen.

Those theories aside, it’s the the technology on display in “Jurassic World” that has far greater implications. By that, I don’t mean it’ll bring back dinosaurs or other extinct species. It may actually do something much more profound.

Unlike the original movies, both “Jurassic World” and the sequel, “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom,” don’t stop at just bringing back dinosaurs. These movies take place in a world where that spectacle isn’t that exciting anymore. As a result, they start splicing the DNA of other dinosaurs together to create new species, namely the Indominous Rex and the Indoraptor.

While this creates for great action scenes and plenty of dinosaur-driven combat, the true implications of this technology are lost in the spectacle. Take a moment to consider what the science within these movies accomplished. Then, consider what that means for the real world and the future of the human race.

These dinosaurs were not the product of evolution. Evolution works within some pretty rigid limits. It’s a slow, clunky, arduous process that takes a lot of time and a lot of extinction. On top of that, the basic laws of heredity and the inherent limits of hybridization ensure that the transmission of certain traits are next to impossible through natural means.

However, as Dr. Wu himself stated in “Jurassic World,” there’s nothing natural about what what they did. Essentially, the scientists in that movie used the genetic and evolutionary equivalent of a cheat code. There were no barriers to combining the DNA of a T-Rex with that of a Raptor. They just cut and pasted DNA in the same way you would cut and paste text on a word document.

That should sound somewhat familiar to those who have followed this website because that’s exactly what CRISPR does to some extent. It’s basically the cut function for DNA and it exists in the real world. The paste function exists too, although it’s not quite as refined. To that extent, “Jurassic World” is fairly accurate in terms of the technology they used to create the Indominous Rex and Indoraptor.

That’s not to say it’s possible to create the exact same creatures depicted in the movies. There are various anatomical limits to how big, fast, or smart a creature can be, even if there are no genetic barriers to contend with. I don’t know if the creatures created in “Jurassic World” could function in the real world, but the science for making them does exist, albeit in a limited capacity.

That, in and of itself, is a remarkable notion and one that makes the original “Jurassic Park” seem slightly more incredible. If anything, the original movie underestimated the progress that science would make in genetic engineering. That movie just had science rebuilding life from the remnants of existing creatures. We’ve already progressed to the point where we’re starting to make synthetic life from scratch.

This kind of technology has implications that go far beyond bringing extinct animals back from the dead or creating new ones that make for great fight scenes in a movie. It actually has the potential to circumvent evolution entirely in the struggle for survival. “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” even explores this concept, but only to a point.

Without getting too deep into spoiler territory, this movie builds on the same genetics technology that “Jurassic World” introduced with the Indominous Rex. However, it isn’t just applied to dinosaurs. The sequel dares to contemplate how this technology could be used on humans or to supplement human abilities.

It’s not that radical a concept. Humans have, after all, used technology and breeding techniques to domesticate animals that have aided our efforts to become the dominant species on this planet. That process is still hindered by the hard limits of biology. The process in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” is not bound by those limits.

In this movie, dinosaurs go beyond a spectacle at a theme park. They suddenly become a potential asset to further augment human abilities. Some, such as Jeff Goldblum’s character, Ian Malcolm, would argue that such creatures pose a risk to humanity’s survival. I doubt I’m as smart as Dr. Malcolm, but I’d also argue that he’s underselling just how dominant human beings are at the moment.

Maybe if dinosaurs had come back 1,000 years ago when humans were still using swords, spears, and arrows to fight animals, we might have had a problem. Today, humans have access to machine guns, tanks, and combat drones. Even the apex predators of the Jurassic don’t stand a chance.

I would further argue that the same technology that the scientists in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” used to make the Indoraptor is even more valuable in terms of how it can affect humans. After all, if you can copy and paste desirable traits into a dinosaur, then you can do the same to a human.

Doing that might cause plenty of ethical issues that Dr. Malcolm has articulated before, but there’s one factor that overshadows all those arguments and that’s the survival of our species. Let’s face it, the human has its limits. We can’t breathe underwater. Our skin is soft and vulnerable. Our immune system has room for improvement.

There are other mammals out there who can survive extreme cold. There are animals whose immune systems are much more effective than ours. There are even some animals that don’t even age. Nature has already solved many of the problems that hinder the human species today. It’s just a matter of taking those solutions and integrating them into our own biology.

If the technology in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” can create a creature as advanced as the Indoraptor, then there’s no reason why it can’t also create a human who has the muscle strength of a mountain gorilla, the immune system of an alligator, and the longevity of a tortoise. That kind of application is far more impactful than creating fancy zoo attractions.

I imagine that Dr. Malcolm might still warn about the use of this technology, but it may actually be an even greater risk to not use it. Again, it comes back to survival. Eventually, the Earth is going to die, either by the destruction of our sun or some other external force. If we’re to survive beyond that, we need to be able to survive outside one planet.

As it stands, the human species just isn’t built for that. It shows in how poorly our bodies react to space travel. It also shows in how much we struggle to survive in certain environments. To some extent, we must use the technology in “Jurassic World” to improve our survival.

Whether that involves tweaking our genetics with traits from more robust animals or creating pet raptors that help protect us, this technology has uses that are both profound and necessary. There’s still plenty of danger, although it’s doubtful any of that danger entails someone getting eaten by a T-Rex. However, it’s a danger we’ll have to confront whether the Ian Malcolms of the world like it or not.

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“Loving Freedom” A Sexy Short Story (On The 4th Of July)

9040dd3143052b8d1ed9ae6308b130e8Greetings, and Happy 4th of July! I hope everyone has a chance to sit back, cook up some food on the grill, and enjoy a fireworks show wherever you are. In the spirit of celebrating this day of freedom and Independence, I’ve crafted a sexy short story to celebrate all things sexy and free. Enjoy!

“Looks like the show’s about to begin, Betsy,” said an excited Sam Washington.

“You are talking about the fireworks, right?” quipped his beautiful wife, Elizabeth “Betsy” Washington.

“And what if I’m not?” he retorted coyly.

“I’d be relieved,” she quipped, “because for us, the fireworks are never the best part of the 4th of July.”

Sam’s grin widened as he sat next to his wife of five years atop a large blanket on the isolated hilltop not far from their house. It was an isolated, remote area that few knew about and for good reason. He and Betsy made it a point to keep the place hidden. In the heart of middle America, it was their own slice of personal freedom.

That place gained even greater importance on 4th of July. As it just so happened, the top of the hill overlooked Liberty Lake Park, a vast island of grassy open space surrounding a lake. Every summer, hundreds of people descended on to docks to unload boats, jet skis, and everything else they needed to enjoy the mid-summer heat. The biggest crowds always gathered near the docks for the annual fireworks show.

It was one of the biggest in the state, boasting every year how it could light up the entire night for a brief, but memorable spectacle. It was extra special to him and Betsy because their first date had taken place during the 4th of July seven years ago. On that night, they started a tradition that they had cherished ever since.

“I even hear they brought in extra material from upstate,” Betsy added. “My sister’s old roommate says they brought in some fireworks from the baseball stadium they hadn’t used.”

“Are you telling me this to warn me? Or entice me?” Sam asked her.

“Can it be a little of both?”

“I’m good with either,” he teased. “It’s been a long, hard year for the both of us. I’m ready to just take a step back and celebrate.”

“Me too, my love.”

He smiled at his beautiful wife, her loving gaze building the anticipation. The stage was set. They’d just finished a round of freshly-grilled burgers, chips, and corn on the cobb. With full stomachs and a couple of beers in them, Sam was ready carry on that tradition. His beautiful wife in his arms, the fireflies already buzzing in the diminishing twilight, they anxiously watched the cloudless sky in anticipation.

“Any minute now,” Betsy told him, “and we’ll do plenty of celebrating.”

“I’m ready. America is ready. We’re ready, damn it!” he said with growing patience.

They weren’t going to start until the first round of fireworks went off. That was when the real show began. It made time move painfully slow. It didn’t help that Betsy wore those extra sexy high-cut shorts of hers, along with that red, white, and blue halter top. She claimed she chose that outfit because it was hot and it was patriotic, especially compared to his jeans and sleeveless shirt. Sam knew Betsy well enough to know when she had other, less obvious motives.

The way her long, smooth legs brushed up against him, her soft hands caressing his unshaven face, made the wait unbearable. Sam wasn’t sure the lover or the patriot in him could hold out much longer.

Then, it finally happened. The first round fireworks from the lake shot up into the sky, bursting in a dazzling display of reddish green light. A cheer erupted from the crowd of people gathered around the lake. For a brief moment, he and Betsy gazed up in awe as well.

That didn’t last long, though. As soon as the crisp night sky was illuminated by the display, Sam turned towards his beautiful wife and locked his gaze with hers.

“It’s time,” Betsy said with that all-American sexiness in her voice.

“God bless America!” Sam said eagerly.

With more fireworks going off, they kissed passionately. It started off soft, not unlike the kiss they shared on their wedding day. It quickly escalated, though, deepening into the kind of kissing they’d shared on their honeymoon.

Their lips swirled and their tongues twirled, the love they shared as husband and wife mixing with the lust they felt as two people of heightened passions. It conveyed a perfect blend of affection and desire, one they sought to express under the light of 4th of July fireworks.

“Sam,” she gasped, their lips briefly parting, “take me, you all-American stud!”

He didn’t need to be a loving husband or a former army grunt to heed those words, but they certainly added a sense of urgency. Once again, Sam was going to do it. He was going to make love to his wife under the light and noise of 4th of July fireworks on a muggy summer evening.

Betsy had already gotten ahead of him, kissing him again before pulling his shirt off over his head. He caught up quickly, though, picking his wife up in his powerful arms, earning a delighted laugh in the process, and laying her out on the oversized blanket they’d placed atop the freshly-cut crass. Now on top of her, he kissed her again before trailing his hands up her waist.

“Time get out of these sweaty clothes,” he told her.

“Mmm…it’s too hot for clothes anyway,” Betsy joked.

As the radiant light from the fireworks above illuminated the isolated hilltop, Sam went to work undressing his wife. First, he slid her halter top up over her head, revealing the blue bra she’d worn underneath. As she reached behind to unclasp it, he trailed his lips down her torso while undoing her tight-fitting jean shorts. He could already feel her body writhing with anticipation, conveying a growing desire to go along with the excitement of the spectacle above them.

“Off! Get them off!” Betsy urged.

Sam worked faster, pulling her shorts down her shapely legs, taking her panties off in the process. The moment they came off, Betsy removed her bra, rendering her fully naked. Being out in the open on a hot summer evening didn’t bother her in the slightest. If anything, it brought out an extra sexy side to her that drove him wild.

“Now, it’s your turn!” she said intently.

With the noise of more fireworks erupting overhead, Betsy pounced on him with unfretted energy, kissing him again and turned him over so that now he was on his back. She then hovered over him, letting those perfectly-shaped breasts of hers dangle in her face. She loved showing them off and he loved feeling them in his hands.

As he fell under her seductive spell, kissing down her cleavage and fondling her breasts, she reached down and undid his pants. Having already become very confined, he coordinated with his wife to get them off as fast as the mud-stained denim would allow. Feeling the hot summer air on his exposed flesh was nothing short of liberating, a fitting feeling for the 4th of July.

Now fully naked, alone and in nature together, Sam let his wild side show with Betsy. As the rate and intensity of the fireworks escalated, they engaged in an onslaught of impassioned foreplay. They rolled round on the blanket, the sweat and pollen sticking to their naked bodies. He felt Betsy’s hands roam wildly, pawing and caressing the sinews of his chest. He returned the favor, feeling up the smooth skin of her womanly curves, giving her butt a firm squeeze while still giving her breasts plenty of attention.

Together, they moaned and caressed one another, but much of it muted by the sound of exploding fireworks. That didn’t matter, though. Sam could literally feel the desire growing between them and not just because his erect dick was pressing up against her thigh. While he and his wife had always enjoyed extended foreplay, he hadn’t forgotten that time was a factor when making love during a fireworks show.

“Ready for the real fireworks?” Sam asked over the noise.

“Hell yes!” Betsy said with a beaming smile.

Showing the kind of enthusiasm that could inspire patriotic passions in anyone, she got on top of him again so that he laid flat on his back. She then positioned herself on top of him, getting into an upright position so that her pelvis was perfectly aligned with his rigid manhood. With the fireworks going off in the skies around them, it was an amazing sight, like gazing up at an angel surrounded by exploding stars.

“Just lie back,” she told him. “I’ll put on the real show!”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sam said with a wide grin.

As a round of bright white fireworks went off behind them, Betsy grasped his sides and lowered her hips, working his rigid manhood up into her waiting depths. Upon feeling her tight, wet flesh around his, they each let out a blissful moan. Once again, it was muted by the noise from the fireworks, but that only served to motivate Betsy.

Fueled by a mix of passion – and the American spirit, as a whole – she began riding his dick in a fury of vigorous motions. She dug her toes into the blanket, tightened her grip on his waist, and gyrated her hips in a skillful display of loving sensuality. The way the hot folds of her womanhood slid along the length of his cock made it feel as though their flesh had been perfectly fitted for one another. It brought with it a steady stream of blissful sensations that seemed augmented by the fireworks displayed in the background.

To Sam, it was ecstasy and love in its purest form. Looking up at his beautiful wife, watching her ride him with such affection and dedication, was truly a sight to behold. The fireworks in the background was just a nice bonus. It made him feel like he had the best seat in the house for any 4th of July celebration.

“Betsy! Ohhh Betsy!” he moaned. “So much…love you…so much!”

“Yes! Oh yes! Oh Sam!” Betsy exclaimed.

Their cries exceeded the noise from the fireworks, a fitting feat for two patriotic lovers like them. Betsy stepped up the rhythm, her breasts bouncing more with each motion. Sam eagerly reached up to touch them, rubbing them with both hands in just the way she liked. He also made it a point to rub her nipples in a certain way. It was one of his wife’s favorite kinks and on such a special night, it was extra potent.

“Oohhh like that! Rub my tits…just like that!” she gasped. “You’re going to…make me…come!”

It worked even better than usual. As Betsy rode him with greater intensity, she placed her hands atop his and supplemented his skilled touching. Sam hadn’t known many women who could achieve orgasm by having their breasts rubbed. The fact he fell in love with someone who did made their sex that much hotter.

Between her riding his cock and him rubbing her breasts, Betsy’s ascension to orgasmic bliss was complete just in time for an extra loud round of fireworks. Sam watched with awe – both in reaction to the fireworks and to his love’s expression of ecstasy – as she closed her eyes, threw her head back, and let out a cry of euphoria to the heavens. As loud as the fireworks were, they didn’t stand a chance against his love’s bliss.

“My love coming on the 4th of July…my favorite spectacle of all,” Sam grinned.

As the orgasmic wave washed over her, he maintained his firm hold on her breasts. She clung to his wrists as well, her body writhing under the onslaught of pleasure. He felt the inner muscles of her womanhood contract around his member, tightly embracing his flesh in accord with her bliss. Every breath echoed with a delight, her naked body glowing even brighter under the light of the fireworks.

“Enjoying your independence, Betsy?” Sam teased.

“Mmm…how American of you,” Betsy said coyly.

Her body still shuddering from the pleasure, she released her grip on his wrists and leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss. Sam eagerly kissed back, embracing his beautiful wife fully under the spectacle in the skies above. However, he also hadn’t forgotten his own desires, nor did he forget the time constraints in which they were operating.

“Ready for the finale?” he asked her.

“Of course…my all-American lover!” Betsy replied without hesitation.

Taking the initiative, as only any former army man could, Sam repositioned their bodies so that he was the one on top. Their flesh never parted, not wasting a moment or motion.

Betsy eagerly adjusted, despite her post-orgasmic state. She spread her legs wider, hooking them around his waist so that the balls of her feet dug into his lower back. His sweaty flesh now meshed up against hers, Sam planted knees and feet firmly on the ground. Then, he buried his face into her neck and began making love to her at the same fervent rhythm she’d established earlier.

“Betsy…oh God, Betsy!” Sam grunted upon feeling that intimate bliss once more. “I want you…want this.”

“That’s it, my love,” she told him. “Make love to me…under the stars…and the fireworks.”

Her loving, affectionate tone somehow found a way to echo over the noise of fireworks in the sky. It might have been a 4th of July miracle or his desire to make love to his wife was just that strong.

Whatever the case, Sam went with it. Like a man on a mission, he worked his body against hers, thrusting and pumping his rigid manhood within his lover’s depths. Every movement brought with it a surge of hot sensations, each bringing him closer to his approaching peak. He had held back before so his wife could enjoy her ecstasy. Now, he sought to share in that feeling.

As that blissful peak approached, the noise from the fireworks got louder. It sounded like the show was at its finale as well, firing off every last mortar and firecracker. Betsy, her chin dug into his shoulder, probably had the best possible view. He could sense her awe, but he still felt like he was part of the real spectacle.

“Betsy…I’m so close,” he gasped. “The finale…so close!”

“I feel it too, Sam,” Betsy panted. “Come, my love. Celebrate with me!”

Armed with his passion and his all-American grit, Sam’s heated movements in lovemaking sent him to the brink. For a brief moment, it seemed unlikely that he would achieve that peak in time for the fireworks to end. In what felt like another 4th of July miracle, he achieved his climax as well.

It struck just as one of the brightest displays from the show lit up the sky, so much so that it illuminated Betsy’s face like the midday sun. As he took in her loving gaze, his hold on her intensified as every fiber in his body was awash in pleasure. White hot pleasure surged from his core, sending ripples of euphoria from head to toe. His manhood throbbed inside her in accord with his release, his sexual fluids mixing with hers in a potent blend of passion.

Throughout that ecstasy, his gaze never diverted from her and hers never diverted from his. In that moment, in that instance of ultimate intimate bliss, they shared a deep kiss to cap off the finale. Fittingly enough, that was the exact moment the fireworks display ceased.

The timing was perfect. As they kissed, they could hear the crowd around the lake cheering the show. It felt like they’d been cheering him and Betsy on as they made love. The probably thought they’d seen the best American spectacle show in the state. They were dead wrong.

“I love you, Betsy,” Sam said, the skies now quiet.

“I love you too, Sam,” Betsy replied with her loving gaze.

“Happy 4th of July, my freedom-loving wife.”

“Same to you, my American stud of a husband.”

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Reflecting On The Greatest Advice Rick Sanchez Ever Gave Us

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Greetings, and wubba lubba dub dub! By now, you should know that means this will be another article about “Rick and Morty,” one of the greatest animated shows of this century or any other century, for that matter. I know that sometimes means the topics involved are depressing or downright fatalistic. I can’t promise this one will balance that out to any meaningful, but I still hope that this piece is more useful than most.

Love it or hate it, either due to its nihilistic undertones or exceedingly passionate fanbase, there are a lot of interesting insights to explore within “Rick and Morty.” From specific episodes that deal with the not-so-hidden appeal of the apocalypse to those built around Rick turning himself into a pickle, there’s a wide variety of lessons and themes to take in.

In this case, I want to focus on what I feel is the best advice “Rick and Morty” has given anyone, both within his animated world and in our own world. It’s a lesson that anyone can use in a multitude of situations, be it dealing with never-ending flood of depressing news to finding out a beloved actor was a total asshole.

Rick has given this advice to Morty on more than one occasion throughout the show, including the pilot episode and, most notably, in “Rick Potion #9.” It applies to battles against alien security guards, burying the body of your alternate self, and that time you farted in class a bit too loudly. It can be summed up in four simple words.

Don’t think about it!

On the surface, it doesn’t sound too useful. Not thinking about something seems like an elaborate excuse to avoid a particular problem or issue. It sounds like something adults tell children just to shut them up so they’ll stop bothering them. Whether they’re asking about where babies come from or why we can’t stop fighting wars, it feels like the overly easy way to avoid an unpleasant conversation.

However, I don’t think that’s what Rick means when he says that. He’s already proven in multiple episodes that he doesn’t give a Grunglokian fart about unpleasant conversations, as evidenced by his many unfiltered rants around his family. When he says “don’t think about it,” he’s saying it in a particular context that makes it more than just a method for avoiding awkward moments.

Watch any one episode of “Rick and Morty” and you’ll notice more than a few themes, not all of which are based on Rick’s ego or Morty’s obsession with a particular redhead. One of the major over-arching concepts that binds the show, and gives much of its appeal, is the idea that none of the things that people hold dear actually matter in the grand scheme of things.

Whether it’s religion, the economy, love, family, or the formula for concentrated dark matter, it just doesn’t matter in the long run. Religion doesn’t matter because it’s just some arbitrary set of beliefs built on unrelated correlations. The economy doesn’t matter if the value of money is entirely arbitrary. Love and family don’t matter when there’s an infinite number of them in the multiverse.

While that fits with the shows more nihilistic themes, it also speaks to the helplessness and frustration that a lot of people feel when dealing with a chaotic world/multiverse. There’s so much they can do, but so much of it doesn’t matter. The causes they fight for, the wealth they accrue, and the people they encounter simply lose their meaning when you consider the sheer size of the universe and how old it is.

In that context, not thinking about it might actually be helpful. If you work a job you don’t like, pay taxes you don’t like paying, and deal with people you can’t stand every day, the idea that it’s all for nothing in the long run isn’t just untenable. It maddening. How can anyone possibly cope with that kind of existence?

Not thinking about it, though, solves a lot of issues because it allows you to maintain the necessary perspective to function within that existence. Even if the things we do are meaningless, not thinking about it at least gives us the illusion that they’re meaningful. More often than not, perception beats reality and not just in terms of bias news.

It’s a byproduct of human’s being so limited in their thinking. Human brains did not evolve to prioritize reason, understanding, or making sense of an obscenely large universe. They evolved with the primary function to help us survive and reproduce, as individuals and as a species. Anything else is secondary or an afterthought.

Rick Sanchez seems to understand that and constantly exploits those limits for his own ends, whether it involves outwitting the President or outsmarting the devil. Unlike everyone else in a meaningless world within an infinite multiverse, he’s a super-genius. He has a portal gun that allows him to travel to infinite timelines at will, even if it’s just for a pizza.

Nobody else in this world has those capabilities, although I wouldn’t at all be surprised if Elon Musk weren’t working on it. Nobody in this world is as smart or as resourceful as Rick Sanchez. There’s very little he can’t do. This is a man who defeated a Thanos/Darkseid rip-off while blackout drunk. By every measure, what he does should carry more meaning than most.

Despite Rick’s abilities, he’s the one who often belabors how meaningless everything is. Never-the-less, he still operates as though there’s a reason to continue existing. That may send mixed messages when he says not to think about it, but that’s only if you overthink it, which would entirely defeat the purpose.

Rick knows that nothing he does matters in the long run, but he doesn’t think about that.

Rick knows that everyone he cares about are just random clumps of matter in a meaningless universe within an infinite multiverse, but he doesn’t think about that.

Rick knows that love, connection, and emotions are just manifestations of brain chemistry that help our species survive, but he doesn’t think about it.

Instead, he focuses his genius intellect on the things that matter to him. Whether that’s his family or that sweet, delicious Szechuan Sauce, he concerns himself primarily with what he feels gives his cosmic adventures meaning. It doesn’t matter if that meaning is empty in the grand scheme of things because, again, he doesn’t think about it.

It may sound egotistical or selfish, but it’s remarkably pragmatic in a meaningless universe. It keeps us from stepping back, realizing how insignificant we are, and succumbing to despair. It directs our energy and efforts into issues that are localized. For Rick Sanchez, a man with access to a portal gun and a space ship, localized is a relative term. For everyone else, though, it’s just that much more pragmatic.

There’s only so much we can do to exact meaningful change in the world. Unless you’re willing to go through the long, tedious process that involves reshaping government institutions, influencing cultural trends, or educating people on a mass scale, you can’t expect to achieve much change, especially by yourself.

Rick Sanchez could probably achieve all the change he wants, but chooses not to because he knows it’ll bore him or it’s just easier to go to a universe where that change has already occurred. For the rest of us, though, we’re frustratingly limited. We may never see or inspire the change we want. Even if we do, we can’t do it alone.

That kind of helplessness can be depressing. The idea that so little of what we do matters, even when we believe in a cause, is pretty distressing. That’s why Rick’s advice is so relevant. It’s not deep or inspiring, but it gets the job done.

Upset with past injustices upon a particular group? Don’t think about it.

Upset that you can’t change the minds of your friends and family on politics, religion, or ideology? Don’t think about it.

Upset that we’re not doing enough to address climate change? Don’t think about it.

Upset that the economy isn’t doing well and all the best opportunities are gone? Don’t think about it.

These are all things that you can’t change without a portal gun or galactic-level genius. Since Rick Sanchez has that and we don’t, our best recourse is to not obsess over it because there’s not much we can do. Eventually, the heat death of the universe will render everything we do or have ever done totally meaningless.

That can either be depressing or empowering, depending on how you look at it. Yes, not thinking about it won’t undo a traffic ticket, undo a crime you committed, or turn off your biological urges to eat, sleep, love, and mate. Efforts to do so can be damaging. For everything else though, not thinking about it is probably better for your mind, your body, and your overall sense of being.

In that sense, we should all thank Rick Sanchez for this amazingly useful device. While he’d probably say that gratitude is just a polite way of idiots admitting how incapable they are, it’s probably best not to think about his reaction. So long as the advice he gave works, what does it matter? Wubba lubba dub dub!

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