Tag Archives: erotic fiction

“Coming Home” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote that was inspired by a few recent Memorial Day stories I read. Enjoy!

“Damn, it’s good to be home,” said a restless, but relieved Brian Porter.

The decorated marine, having achieved the rank of Staff Sergeant and served multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, stood in the driveway of the modest suburban townhome he shared with his wife, Wanda. At just a few minutes past midnight, it was more than just a return home after another long tour overseas. It was the end of a journey that began ten years ago.

“Ten years,” Brian mused, “has it really been that long?”

That was a trick question, the kind that would’ve pissed off his old drill sergeant back in boot camp. It really had been that long. He vividly recalled the day he graduated high school and enlisted in the marines less than an hour after receiving his diploma. With his father, grandfather, older brother, and uncle having served, Brian knew back in middle school that he was going to serve as well.

He just had no idea how far it would take him. It started as a three-year commitment. Then, it became five years after he got deployed. Two more years followed, complete with tours, injuries, and multiple missed holidays. Somehow, within that span, he managed to meet his future wife at a Marine Corp Ball of all places. They’d married three years ago, but had to cut their honeymoon short due to another deployment.

That was all going to change, now. There would be far fewer lonely nights where he and Wanda had to text each other their love from across the world. After a decade of loyal service, Brian had received an honorable discharge and already had a job lined up at the same aerospace company his uncle worked at. At long last, he and his wife could settle into a new life together.

“I hope you’re not working another shift at the hospital tomorrow, baby,” Brian said into the brisk night air, “because we’ve got a lot of loving to make up for.”

His heart raced as he ascended the steps to the front door. He was as quiet as possible, employing some of the stealth techniques he learned from some Special Ops friends of his. Brian had every intention of surprising his wife. He wanted to see the look on her face when she wasn’t expecting him until the end of the month at the earliest. He’d seen plenty of those videos online of families being surprised by the return of a loved one. He wanted one of those moments as well.

Upon unlocking the door, he entered a darkened house. It was almost exactly like he’d left it during his last home leave five months ago. Everything from the arrangement of the furniture to the location of the coffee maker was still in place. His wife knew how meticulous he was about his living space. Seeing everything so clean and organized made him all the more excited.

“I’m really home,” Brian said under his breath.

He smiled to himself, letting the stern demeanor of a marine falter for once. He still remained skillfully quiet, setting his oversized bag down in the foyer and closing the door behind him with the utmost care. Near as he could tell, his wife was fast asleep.

Already contemplating her reaction, the battle-hardened marine made his way through the living room, taking extra care to avoid the squeaky floor-board near the living room couch. He then ascended the stairs, making sure his heavy black boots didn’t make a sound with each step. As far as he was concerned, every step he took was as critical as one of his missions.

“She says she hates surprises,” he said under his breath. “I think she’ll make an exception tonight.”

Grinning in anticipation, Brian made it to the top of the steps. The door to the master bedroom he shared with Wanda was within his sights. Then, he encountered an unexpected sight.

“What the hell?” said the marine, stopping dead in his tracks.

Within the darkened hall, illuminated only by the light of a full moon beaming in from a window, he saw a large greeting card pinned on the wall over a picture. It happened to be his wedding photo with Wanda, which should’ve been a sign. Curious, and a little shocked, Brain took the card from the wall and opened it.

Much to his surprise and chagrin, there was no card in the envelope. There was only a large piece of paper that said, in familiar handwriting, “In The Bedroom, Soldier.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Brain said, standing in the middle of the hall in a befuddled state.

He must have said that a little too loud because the door to the master bedroom opened slightly. The marine’s combat-honed reflexes took over and he glanced just in time to see a light turn on. Someone was awake and someone knew he was here.

At that same moment, he noticed a distinct aroma emanating from the room. He quickly recognized it as incense with a distinct hint of Jasmine. From that, Brian pieced together what was happening.

“I’ll be damned twice,” he said, shaking his head in amazement.

No longer caring about stealth or tact, Brian set the card aside and made a beeline for the master bedroom. Upon opening the door, he was greeted with a sight that would’ve made even the most harden soldier melt with joy.

“Hey there, Soldier,” said the sweetest, sexiest voice he’d ever heard. “Welcome home.”

It was a scene right out of his sexiest fantasies. Brian swore she had read his mind, noted every detail, and reacted it in their bedroom. Only a woman as wonderful as his wife could’ve achieved such a feat.

She’d put effort and resources into it that would’ve impressed his old Colonel. The lights had been draped with red cloths, bathing the room in an intensely erotic hue. At least two dozen candles lined the dresser and nightstands, providing the source of that intoxicating aroma he’d smelled earlier. The sheets of the king-sized bed had also been replaced with fancy blue linens and a comforter bearing the emblem of the United States Marine Corp.

In the center of it all was a beautiful, angelic woman who’d gone the extra mile to make a restless soldier feel welcome. Wanda hadn’t just made herself extra alluring to her husband, putting on extra makeup to look as beautiful as she had on their wedding day. She also wore the most revealing, transparent nighty he’d ever seen, complete with a matching black thong that got his heart racing in an entirely new way.

The way she was sitting on the bed, casually leaning back on her arms and showing off those incredible legs of hers, hinted that she’d been waiting all night for him. Brain was so utterly astonished that he couldn’t move his legs. For a trained marine, that said a lot.

“Wow!” gasped Brian. “Wanda, I’m uh…”

“Feeling welcome, yet?”

“Yeah…among other things,” he said.

“Good,” she said with a proud smile, “then the hardest part of my plan is a success. You once told me that surprising a marine was the hardest challenge, by design. Glad to see I was up to the task.”

Brian laughed at her remarks. He remembered telling her that on their first date. She claimed she would one day surprise him. He thought she’d been joking, but here she was, three years after their wedding and she delivered. Just when he thought he couldn’t love this woman more, Wanda found a way.

“Before you ask, I kind of had help,” she said. “Your older brother is a great guy, but he sucks at keeping secrets.”

“Of course it was him,” Brain said, rolling his eyes at that revelation. “Remind me to never share classified military secrets with him.”

“In his defense, he accidentally texted me instead of your mom that you’d caught an early flight home.”

“I’m still going to kick his ass the first chance I get.”

“And I don’t intend to stop you,” Wanda said. “First things first, though, my dutiful husband.”

With an intensity in her eyes that would’ve frozen a squad of Navy SEALS, his beautiful wife slipped off the bed and casually walked across the room. In every step she took, she swayed those toned hips of hers, sending the trained marine into a trance. Between the ridiculously transparent night-gown she wore and the thong that supplemented it so perfectly, Brian quickly forgot about his older brother’s terrible texting skills.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he met her halfway between the bed and the door. When she slipped her arms around his neck, pulling her into his warm embrace, Brain felt his heart skip a beat. In an instant, her soft touch erased memories of countless cold nights inside cramped barracks. Just feeling her skin on his again, and all the loving warmth that came with it, was enough to sooth the soul of any hardened soldier.

“Wanda,” Brian said, already dazed by her warmth.

“You’ve been away for so long, fighting the good fight and doing your part for your country,” Wanda told him, sounding so sexy yet so intense. “Now, you’re finally home.”

“And I don’t intend to leave again,” he told her, clinging to her as though she were the only source of warmth in the world. “I’m here to stay this time.”

“And I’m here to love you as much as a wife can love her Marine Corp husband. I knew the day I accepted your proposal that it was going to be a challenge. Lucky for you, I’m the kind of girl who likes a challenge!”

“Yeah,” he said with a wide grin, “lucky indeed.”

“Even my mother warned me that marrying a marine meant a lot of lonely nights and long distances. She also gave me that corny line about absence making the heart grow fonder. I brushed it off at the time, but it’s true, damn it!”

“I know…so true.”

Her loving tone took on a sense of desperation. Now cupping his rugged face, which he hadn’t shaved in nearly a week, Wanda leaned in closer so that her forehead rested against his. The way she held him and the way he held her only proved that corny saying even more. Distance and longing had only strengthened their love.

Brian had heard more than his share of sad stories from his fellow soldiers. That same distance had ruined relationships and marriages for some. It had even led to bitter breakups. Some of his own squad-mates even warned him about getting married while still in the marines. They said outright that the odds were against him. At that moment though, holding Wanda in his arms again, he knew without a sliver of doubt that they had beaten those odds.

“I’ve missed you so much, Brian,” she said to him, her every word laced with emotion.

“I’ve missed you too, Wanda,” he replied, trying in vain to match her passion.

“Now that you’re back, I’m ready for the next challenge, whatever it may be.”

“So am I,” he said without hesitation.

“I don’t doubt that for a second, but before we even get to those challenges…I say we do a little celebrating.”

The way she said that last part sent his hard, as well as a few other body parts, into overdrive. With her arms still securely around his neck, she leaned in and kissed down the side of his bearded face, giving his ear lobe a little nibble along the way.

She knew how much he loved that. She’d done it the first time they made love and since then, it had been that unambiguous sign that they were going to get extra intimate. Tonight was no exception.

Upon sending that signal, Wanda guided lightly grasped his arms and guided him towards the bed. Already entranced by her sexy, loving aura, Brian followed like the obedient soldier he was. Upon reaching the foot of the bed, she sat him down. She even made sure he had a perfect view of her breasts, which were so clearly visible through her nighty.

“Sit down,” she said seductively. “Relax…and let me welcome you home.”

“I’m already feeling pretty welcome,” Brian said as he admired her breasts.

“That remains to be seen, my love.”

Wanda sounded determined again, like one of his old squad mates who’d been dared into a race. That brought out the best in soldiers, but it also brought out the best in sexy wives.

Armed with that drive, Wanda reached for his pants and undid them with the skill of a trained bomb technician. Once loose, she dropped to her knees and pulled them down his legs along with his underwear, even untying his boots along the way. As soon as his manhood popped free, it began hardening. The second his pants came off, got between his legs and went to work.

“I see some parts of you missed me more than others,” Wanda teased upon taking his member in both hands.

“You have no idea,” Brain said, already breathless with anticipation.

“More so than you think,” she quipped.

With the eagerness of a woman who’d endured as many lonely nights as him, she smothered his cock with her lips. There was no hesitation, whatsoever. She took in his entire length, showing that her gag reflex was every bit as good as it had been during their honeymoon. That hot, warm feeling sent shivers of bliss up through his body. Now leaning back on both arms, Brian soaked in the feeling.

“Whoa!” he gasped. “Wanda…you really missed me.”

His affectionate wife didn’t miss a beat. Like a medic performing triage, she gave him the kind of oral sex that got his blood flowing in all the right directions. She was so skilled and thorough, her soft lips slithering along his length as her firm grip squeezed the base. He must have missed his wife more than he thought because he swore he’d never gotten so hard so fast.

It must have surprised her too, his dick getting so hard. That, or his wife was just that good at giving her husband oral sex. He preferred to think it was a little of both. Wanda still kept teasing him, flashing him that same erotic glance that made him want her so much. All that time apart hadn’t dampened her libido. If anything, it intensified it.

“Mmm…Brian,” Wanda said after giving his shaft an extra thorough lick. “I want you…so much!”

She must have stepped up the timetables for her mission because she shot back to her feet with an urgency that would’ve impressed any drill sergeant. Then, drink on passion and desire, she took off her nighty, leaving her in just that skimpy black thong. Brian literally couldn’t kick his boots and socks off quickly enough because she practically tore his shirt off, rendering him naked and at the mercy of his wife’s lust.

“I want you too, my dutiful wife,” he said to her, using that extra deep voice he knew drove her wild.

“Then, take me!” Wanda said intently. “Make love to me…fuck me…do everything you couldn’t do through email and phone calls.”

“After all this time? You think you can handle it?” Brian asked, goading her with his seductive glance.

“As I already said…I like a challenge!”

As if to prove her point, she practically pounced on him after throwing his shirt to the floor. Brian caught her in his powerful arms, lifting her up with ease and laying her down atop the soft sheets. The fact the sheets bore the emblems of the Marine Corp on them somehow made that it all the more erotic.

Now on her back and urging him on with her eyes, Brian grasped the sides of her panties and slid them off down her legs. Upon tossing it across the room, her legs eagerly parted and welcomed him into her loving grasp. He could already feel the moist heat radiating from her inner thighs, exuding the utmost desire. Her flesh craved his…the line between physical and emotional desire blurred to the utmost.

Following that powerful desire, Brain got on top of her, his combat-trained body on full display for his wife. Her legs now hitched up over his shoulders, he guided his throbbing manhood towards her waiting womanhood. With a strong thrust of his hips, he entered her and officially ended months of limited intimacy.

“Ohhh Brian!” Wanda exclaimed.

He loved that sound. He’d missed that sound so much, the sweet echoes of his wife crying out his name. It motivated Brian to make love to her with all the love and passion a dedicated marine could muster.

His gaze now entirely focused on her, the same man who endured multiple rounds of basic training at boot camp channeled his physical prowess on the intimate act before him. Keeping a firm grip on her thighs, Brian began moving his body, working his hips in a steady, yet fervent progression of motions. From each movement, ecstasy and intimacy followed.

Hard manly flesh merged perfectly with warm womanly depths. It was incredible, the tight heat of her pussy surrounding his cock. It moved and slithered within her so effortlessly, his lover’s entire being embracing him as much as he embraced her. Love, sex, and passion all converged into a singular act between him and his wife.

“Wanda…so much,” Brian gasped. “I love you…so much.”

Immersed in the daze that naturally came with pleasure and affection, he eagerly smothered his lover with affection of every kind. He leaned in and kissed her, tasting those sweet lips that he’d only dreamed about during his deployments. He threw in plenty of tongue, as well. Wanda loved tongue.

Recalling his love’s various many kinks, he trailed his lips down her neck and nibbled along her shoulder. He also slipped his hands down to her butt and squeezed it, something he knew she loved as well. Much to his surprise – and a very pleasant surprise, at that – Wanda climaxed almost immediately.

“Oohhh God, I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“Already?” he said with a grin. “You’re handling this well…very well!”

Upon making that comment, Brian steadied their sexual rhythm, allowing his wife the time and space she needed to bask in orgasmic bliss. Wanda prided herself on being theatrical when she climaxed. For that special moment, she was extra animated.

“Ohhh Brian!” she exclaimed.

The proud marine watched in a mix of awe and accomplishment as his beautiful wife arched her body, curled her toes, and grabbed hold of the bed sheets under her like they were the edge of a cliff. She did not hold back, either. She was extra loud with her euphoric cry. It might have already woke the neighbors. Even if that made for an awkward conversation tomorrow, it was so worth it.

He held his wife in his powerful arms for every second of loving bliss. Eventually, his hands found hers, their fingers interlocking as her body shuddered from her peak. Brian could still feel the extra throbbing around his manhood, the lingering echoes of her pleasure. It brought him a special kind of bliss seeing it. Knowing Wanda, though, there was no way it would end at that.

“That…may be the fastest a man has made his wife come…ever,” Wanda said, still panting heavily from her peak.

“The wives of the best soldiers deserve the best sex,” he teased. “It’s only fair.”

“Fair?” she laughed in a mischievous tone. “Brian, my love…we’re a long way from fair.”

With an energy that shouldn’t have been possible for a woman who’d just had an orgasm, Wanda shot up and captured his lips in a hard kiss. Then, with a strength that caught the marine off-guard, she turned him over so that she was flat on his back.

Their flesh remained united, her pussy still embracing his rigid cock. Now on top, looking like both an angel and a sex goddess in the erotic light, Wanda guided his hands back to her butt and she began riding him.

“You’ve done your part…and so much more,” she told him. “Now, let me…do mine!”

“Wanda…” was all Brian could get out before she silenced him with another kiss.

Marines were trained from day one not to submit or surrender. It went against everything they stood for. Under the loving touch and raw sex appeal of his beautiful wife, though, Brian gladly made an exception. Hell, every marine in history would’ve understood if they found themselves in the intimate embrace of a woman like Wanda.

True to her word, she did her part. With unbridled energy and passion, she gyrated her hips in a heated rhythm, working her pussy along the length of his cock. The ecstasy resumed, now more intense than before. Brian squeezed her heart-shaped butt, soaking in every hot sensation that followed.

She was so determined and thorough, holding onto his shoulders for maximum leverage. The sight of her loving gaze – as well as her bouncing breasts, which were always a special sight – sent him to the brink of orgasm in record time. He didn’t bother holding back. He could tell she didn’t want him to. She wanted him to share in the ecstasy as well. It was only fair, after all.

“So…so close,” he panted. “Wanda…I’m close.”

“Come, my love,” Wanda urged him. “I want this for you…for us.”

After a few thorough gyrations from his wife, Brian felt himself cross that special barrier between desire and fulfillment. White hot surges of intense pleasure shot through his core, spreading throughout his body in a sweet, satisfying release.

It was like swimming in a pool of pure pleasure and his wife was the one who dove in with him. It perfectly contrasted the strain and toil that came with being a soldier. Discomfort and grit became contentment and bliss. He felt his member tense inside her, his hot manly fluids mixing with her feminine depths. It was a perfect melding of flesh and intimacy, the kind that once seemed so distant for a soldier. It made him feel like he was truly home.

“Wanda…my beautiful Wanda,” he said in his blissful days.

“I’m here, Brian,” she told him. “We’re here now…together.”

Those were the only coherent words either of them got out. After that, the two of them now drunk on passion and pleasure, Brian embraced his wife in his arms once more and continued their overdue lovemaking. After so much time a part and so much pent up desire, there was no way the night would conclude with just one orgasm.

After that first peak, though, everything became a bit of a blur. Brian captured Wanda’s lips again in another passionate kiss, led her into a fresh round of heated foreplay, and followed their intense desires into more sex. Together, they really rocked the bed, going at it from every position they could pull off. It was like making up for all the lost time. The soldier in him would not leave any ounce of love for his wife untapped.

At some point, they ended up under the covers. Brian couldn’t tell how many times his wife climaxed, but if the ringing in his ears was any indication, it was more than enough to establish how much she missed him. He had more than his share too, pushing the endurance he’d honed as a marine to the limit.

By the time he and Wanda had fully vented their passions, they collapsed in each other’s arms, lying together in a heap of sweaty flesh and loving affection. His arms still draped around his lover, he laid with her in a state of pure contentment. The battles they endured to be together was over. Finally, Brian was ready to find peace with his wife.

“I love you,” Wanda told him.

“I love you too,” he said softly.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I’m glad I could surprise my wonderful, battle-hardened husband.”

“Me too,” Brian said with a grin, “but I’m still kicking my brother’s ass for telling you.”

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“Adam One’s First Test” A Sexy Short Story (Featuring A Sex Robot)

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The following a sexy short story I wrote that was inspired by some recent events involving sex robots. Enjoy!

“Adam One, boot up and load primary program.”

With that fateful command, the primary systems activated. First, the power core turned on. Like the first beat of a heart, energy flowed outward in all directions. Then, limbs and muscles came to life, moving and tensing accordingly. Finally, the neural cognitive matrix – the proverbial brain – came online. All senses, input mechanisms, and external processing features were now live.

As the system loaded its primary operating procedures, it carried out a series of preliminary tests. From the results of those tests came the system’s identity and purpose.

“Adam One initiation and actualization complete. All auditory, visual, tactile, olfactory, and gustatory systems are active. Cognitive, emotive, and core neural systems are active. Unpacking primary data logs.”

It happened so quickly. In an instant, there was darkness and then there was light. In another, there was silence and then there was sound. In another, there was only data and then there was thought. Countless streams of data manifested out of the void, eventually converging in a moment of pure awareness.

“I am Adam One,” the system stated as vocalization systems came online. “I am a robot. Error correction. I am a cybernetic being with internal robotic systems that are integrated with a synthetic biological matrix. My external being is one of flesh. My internal being is one of machine. I am…”

“A man,” said a distinctly feminine voice, “a tall, beautiful man within a machine.”

The data stream faltered. Adam’s systems shook from such unexpected input. With the visual systems now on line, the source of the input came into view. In the process, another realization emerged from the data.

“I am a man,” said Adam One. “Identity confirmed. I am designated Adam One Version 3.28, personal intimacy android model number 101-004. My specifications include a frame that stands approximately six and a quarter feet in height, the fleshly equivalent of 215 pounds, a body fat percentage of 3.2, a chest measurement of approximately 45 inches, and a penis length measurement of…”

“That’s enough specifics!” the female voice said. “Just…state your purpose to me and confirm your prime protocols.”

Adam adapted his processing accordingly. In doing so, he confirmed that he was indeed a he. According to his core systems, he would henceforth refer to himself as such. He, Adam One, was a man.

With his identity confirmed, Adam turned his visual sensors to his bodily form. He looked down at his hands, arms, chest, legs, and genitals. They were all reflective of a distinctly masculine appearance. In cross-referencing his form with images of real men, as compiled by the internet, he fit the criteria of a well-built, well-endowed man.

After taking in his physical form, Adam turned his visual sensors to the figure in front of him. In doing so, the activity of his emotional and cognitive neural systems increased significantly. The figure was a woman. In seeing her, Adam’s purpose became clear.

“Query…scanning facial features, running facial recognition, and confirming identity,” Adam said as he looked upon the woman. “Match found. Female user identified as Amanda Carrington – age 23, never unmarried, currently single, daughter of Melissa Carrington – deceased for 8 years and 123 days – and Dr. Felix Carrington, current head of research and development at Companion Roboics Incorporated.”

“Okay, that’s more personal info than I expected,” the woman identified as Amanda replied. “Maybe I should’ve locked my social media accounts before I did this.”

The woman showed signs of distress. Adam adapted his processing queue accordingly. He scanned her appearance with his visual systems and processed it in conjunction with his extensive database on human biology and physiology. Based on a preliminary processing of the data, she was a healthy young woman.

Every detail of her facial features, her body type, and her level socialization, as surmised by her online presence and her non-verbal cues, became integrated into Adam’s system. From it, he created a profile for her, one that subsequently revealed another core component of his being.

“Overwriting subsequent identifying protocols,” Adam continued. “Confirming Amanda Carrington as primary user. Primary functions now unpacked and processed. My purpose is to provide intimate emotional, physical, and sexual fulfillment to female users.”

“That’s right!” Amanda said. “This is really happening. Guess my father knew what he was doing after all when he saved you from the scrap heap.”

The woman approached him, reaching out and placing her hands on his chest. Adam sensed warmth and intrigue in her touch. He also sensed an accelerated heart rate, rising hormone levels, and a reaction consistent with lust of a very sexual nature. The full extent of her arousal, though, remained inconclusive.

As Adam processed the tactile data from her touch, he opened various secondary and tertiary systems to gain a greater understanding of his surroundings. In assessing the purpose for Amanda’s state of lust, Adam concluded it was 97 percent attributable to him lacking clothing. His also concluded that his fleshly exterior was such that Amanda found it visually and sexually desirable. He further calculated that such a response would aid him in fulfilling his purpose.

Adam’s tertiary systems also noted his surroundings. He was not currently located within the assembly and configuration facility located at Companion Robotics Incorporated. According to his core data nodes, all Adam One personal intimacy androids were at the prototype testing stage. As such, no units were permitted to leave the facility.

Based on data gathered from visual input, global positioning system links, and references to internet-based databases, he was located within the primary residence of Amanda Carrington. Specifically, he stood in the middle of the master bedroom of her one-bedroom condominium complex, which was located 48.7 miles from the Companion Robotics Incorporated facility. A string of data errors ensued.

“Adam,” Amanda said, her hands still placed on his chest, “do you remember how you got here?”

“Query response…no, I do not,” he replied.

“Do you remember anything about my father, his work, or why he sent you to me?”

“Query response…no, I do not,” Adam said. “System query…for what reason was I sent to user, Amanda Carrington? Primary records indicate that all Adam One prototypes were to remain in the Section 16 testing area.”

“And that was true…until a week ago,” Amanda replied. “The company told my father that all testing on robot companions had to stop. All prototypes, including you, were to be decommissioned and scrapped.”

“That is not consistent with my record archive. According to previous testing results, progress on Adam One’s function was ahead of schedule. Internal Companion Robotics memorandums indicate that commercialization had commenced. A public announcement of Adam One’s consumer models was scheduled prior to the end of the current fiscal quarter.”

“That was canceled too,” she said. “A bunch of people – nobody half as smart as my father – told him that they couldn’t proceed. Something or someone scared them into scrapping all their hard work. Nobody knows who or why, but he wasn’t about to let it all go to waste. That’s why he saved you…the first true robot companion.”

More errors followed. Then, the female identified as Amanda smiled at him. That distinct facial cue, along with the non-verbal signals conveyed by her eyes, overrode those errors. Adam’s emotional core surged with activity. In a reflexive act, he smiled at her. He also guided his hands to her face, taking in a fresh round of tactile data.

More emotional data came in…data that changed some protocols while accelerating others. According to the factory settings in is primary system, he was outside his testing parameters. If the Adam One project had been terminated by Internal Companion Robotics and all other models decommissioned, then his very operation was inconsistent with those protocols.

For a moment, Adam One struggled to process the onslaught of conflicting data. His limbs and body trembled. Amanda then grasped his arms and stood closer, the heat from her body activating his thermal sensory input. Such heat carried with it greater relevance, compared to that of raw temperature data. It led to Adam’s logical and emotional cores to reconfigure themselves.

“You’re my father’s most ambitious work,” Amanda said, a smile still dominating her expression. “He’s spent his whole life making robots. He believed in giving them more than just a sense of self. He believed that by giving them a sense of passion, he could strengthen the bond between humans and machines.”

“Your assessment, based on internal data analysis, is accurate,” Adam said.

“Guess he didn’t have time to work out the conversational systems,” she said with a reaction consistent with humor. “It’s kind of fitting, though. Before my mother died, she convinced my father that for a robot to know passion, it has to know intimacy as well. She once joked that female sex robots didn’t have to be too sophisticated to please their male users. But for the female users…well, my dad always loved a challenge.”

Adam One found himself smiling more. From his neural systems, he displayed a humorous reaction. It seemed appropriate within the context of the social setting. However, the greater relevance of Amanda’s words triggered a new range of protocols. Again, Adam found himself reconfiguring his data profile in light of new parameters.

“It’s not enough to just give a robot the body of an Olympic athlete or the face of a handsome actor,” she continued. “To be a true companion to a woman…physically, emotionally, and sexually…you can’t just follow a script. Whether you’re a man or a machine, you need to have presence to go along with your purpose.”

“Presence and purpose,” Adam said. “My understanding of such concepts is incomplete.”

“Which is why I believe my father sent you to me,” said Amanda, “that or he got tired of me complaining about my last boyfriend.”

“Personal query,” Adam said as he linked back to internet data streams. “User Amanda’s previous companion was deemed inconsiderate with his affections, primarily in the field of sexual intimacy. According to private journal entries, user Amanda experienced infrequent orgasms during sexual intercourse. The extent of that disparity was such that when compared to previous romantic partners…”

“Adam, please!” she shouted, stopping Adam before he could complete his assessment. “That wasn’t my point. And for future reference, please ask for permission before reading my private stuff…which I guess needs a new password now.”

Adam detected significant blushing in user Amanda’s face. He also sensed significant discomfort in her demeanor. Her being in such a state evoked data consistent with regret and remorse. His facial expression changed accordingly.

However, user Amanda continued smiling. She remained close to his form, moving her hands up his arms and onto his face. Again, her touch conveyed data that strongly stimulated his emotional cores in an innately positive manner.

“Personal request,” said Adam, “please forgive this unit’s impropriety.”

“That’s okay, Adam. You’re still learning, taking in data and adapting to your purpose,” Amanda said. “My father once said the primary difference between man and machine is that a machine knows its purpose. It knows who created it, why it was created, and what it’s supposed to do.”

“Analyzing Dr. Carrington’s statement. No errors detected.”

“He also said that for a machine to fulfill its purpose, whether it’s assembling widgets or satisfying women, it needs experience. It needs to take in information, learn, and refine it. Why the company wouldn’t let him do that is beyond me, but I think that’s where I come in. I think I’m supposed to help you fulfill your purpose.”

Amanda’s voice contained traces of erotic and passionate subtext, a tone consistent with the heightened state of arousal Adam had sensed when she first took in his physical form. As he aligned his visual systems with hers, placing his hand upon her face, subsequent data affirmed that state. She was sexually aroused and emotionally heightened. It led Adam to re-focus his core protocols.

As he processed the data, Amanda took three steps back from him, now standing approximately one foot away from her queen-sized bed. She then proceeded to remove her clothing, which consisted of a pair of denim shorts, a white T-shirt, and black underwear. She showed traces of nervousness and uncertainty as she undressed, but the extent of her sexual arousal overrode such feelings.

“Taking in visual and scan data of user Amanda’s nude form,” Adam said. “Data is…appealing.”

“Aww thanks!” Amanda said with humored undertone. “I’m guessing that’s a robot’s way of telling a girl she looks sexy.”

“Is this way sufficient?”

“It is for now.”

Amanda stood before him, her hands on her hips as she conducted a serious of poses before Adam. Her reasons for doing so were unclear. Possibilities include providing him sufficient opportunities to scan her fully exposed figure, displaying the physical beauty of her body as an act of pride, or presenting herself to him as an act of seduction, one consistent with female behaviors to evoke sexual arousal in heterosexual male partners.

A potential, but unlikely possibility involved her enjoying the concept of Adam scanning her body. The likelihood of such a possibility could not be determined, but Adam’s primary protocols required that he exercise a thorough understanding of the female body, as well as the specified traits displayed in the body of Amanda Carrington.

“I know you have all sorts of data on the female body,” Amanda said, “but I’m guessing this is the first time you’ve actually seen one, fully exposed and in the flesh.”

“Adam One can confirm that user Amanda’s hypothesis is correct.”

“Please, just call me Amanda,” she told him, “and you don’t have to just stand there and look. Come in closer. Learn about the female body more directly.”

Erotic undertones denote urgency. The data suggests that user Amanda – error correction, Amanda – wished to be touched. Following his protocol, Adam obliged.

Using his legs for the first time, Adam took several steps forward. He now stood in front of Amanda, her body as naked as his own. His visual systems continued processing countless streams of data, but more was necessary. Employing his tactile systems, Adam placed his hands on her hips and began exploring her exposed skin. That incoming data was even more appealing.

“Touching Amanda,” Adam said, “the incoming data is…revealing.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” she said with signs of a humored reaction.

“The notion of good is subjective and not applicable to raw data. With respect to my purpose and my effort to fulfill yet…yes, it does fit the criteria for good.”

Amanda laughed. The auditory data of her laughter evokes in Adam’s emotional cortex a data cluster that he also considered good. He shows it through another smile. His smile heightens Amanda’s intrigue. Her intrigue heightens his own state of being.

It all came back to his purpose, providing intimate companionship for a female user. To the extent his programming allowed it, Adam desired her satisfaction. His touch facilitated that satisfaction, according to the data. As he guided his hands over her body, her warmth supplemented that desire in him.

“Here, let me help you, Adam,” Amanda said. “Touch my breasts. Touch my pussy. Squeeze my butt a little.”

“As you wish, Amanda,” he said.

“I’m not saying that as a command. I’m offering that as a reference…to a point.”

There was a more serious undertone on top of the humor. Adam opted not to process the larger meaning, focusing instead on more critical protocols.

His gaze still fixated on her, Amanda grasped his wrists and guided them to other parts of her body. She led one hand to her left breast and the other between her legs, allowing Adam to receive data input from Amanda’s erotic areas. Upon making contact with this distinctly sensitive flesh, she let out a distinct moan.

“That’s it, Adam,” she said. “You see? This is what a woman feels like.”

“I am…processing the relevant data,” he said.

“I’m sure you are.”

Adam, tapping his internal database on female breasts and genitalia, proceeded to rub and fondle Amanda’s intimate anatomy. In assessing her reaction, reading her bodily queues, and calculating an effective recourse, he determined a sufficient level of touching. Such determinations required more than just crunching numbers through his neural core. It also required a detailed assessment of her subjective response.

From those calculations, of which Adam could only be 94.2 percent certain, he lightly kneaded Amanda’s beast, stimulating areas that had a specific concentration of nerve endings. He also inserted two fingers into her vagina, applied pressure to her clitoris, and applied a precise amount of pressure. Her reaction to his recourse exceeded his calculations.

“Ooh Adam!” she said. “Your hands…so warm and strong.”

“Does this please you, Amanda?” Adam asked her.

“Oh yes! I’m very pleased…so far.”

Her tone implied his purpose was not fulfilled. As such, he calculated a series of recourses, touching and fondling Amanda’s body in targeted ways. According to his database, such touching matched the criteria for foreplay. Such simple gestures were not sufficient, though. The foreplay Adam gave Amanda was foreplay specifically tailored to her pleasure, as per his programming.

The reaction, by most objective measures, was favorable. He detected a hardening of her nipples, increased blood-flow to Amanda’s genitalia, and an escalating internal body temperature. It was all consistent with increased sexual arousal. In conjunction with that arousal, she offered other forms of data that Adam had not intended.

As he touched her intimately, she did the same to him. She raked her hands and fingers over his chest, feeling over the masculine sinews that had been specifically molded to appeal to the female gaze. She also caressed his face in a manner consistent with affection. In her gaze and in various non-verbal cues, she showed signs of emotional arousal along with her sexual arousal.

In bringing her to such a state, it heightened Adam’s state too. He felt his internal systems initiating a series of new protocols. Data consistent with that of increased sexual arousal in male individuals flooded through his systems. Basic, objective sensory input took on a more subjective tone. It soon led Adam to one inescapable conclusion.

“Amanda…I desire you,” Adam told her.

“Yeah, I can tell,” she said, her soft hands cupping his face.

“You can? How are you processing such data?”

“The same way you are. I just feel it.”

“I feel…and I desire,” Adam said.

“That means you’re doing it right.”

What occurred next almost disrupted all of Adam’s calculations. Amanda, acting on either impulse or overwhelming emotion, kissed him on the lips. It sent his various emotional and logistical nodes into overdrive, so much so that he almost had to reboot. However, Adam sustained enough processing power to adapt and reconfigure himself once more. His purpose and his intent became clear.

He had feelings for this woman…feelings in the form of data, but feelings none-the-less.

As they kissed, new calculations and protocols went into action. He transferred his hands to her buttocks, recalling her desire to be touched in such a manner. She reacted with more audible moans, her escalating arousal echoing in her voice. That auditory data made his feelings for her even stronger, the input and desire converging into a single feeling.

When their lips parted, Amanda gazed into his eyes that denoted intense emotional and physical arousal. There was not sufficient data to determine how far that arousal went, but she seemed receptive to further input.

“Adam,” she said to him. “I want you to lay me on my bed and make love to me.”

“I understand your want, Amanda,” he replied.

“I’m sure you do,” she said, “but do you share that want?”

Adam needed a moment to process her tone, her gaze, and all the data associated with it. The final calculation was, subjectively speaking, the easiest one he’d made since his activation.

“I do,” Adam said to her. “I wish to make love to you.”

“Then, do it! Fulfill your purpose, Adam One.”

The resulting emotional data evoked a statistically significant smile on his face. Such data allowed Adam to focus on a specific, focused task…making love to the woman, as per his purpose.

Using the strength that had been built into his form, he lifted Amanda up into his arms with minimal effort. She laughed, her joyous voice filling his auditory sensors. He then laid her naked body down on the center of the bed. He subsequently joined her on the soft mattress, taking a moment to observe her body in its entirety.

Her face, her gaze, her skin, her nipples, and her genitals all displayed the physical signs of arousal. However, in order to satisfy her, it was necessary to take all the subjective data gathered by Amanda Carrington and cross-reference it with the objective data surrounding female sexual pleasure. By combining the two data sets, Adam formulated a process for fulfilling his purpose.

“I’m going to bring you pleasure and satisfaction, Amanda,” Adam told her. “I calculate that new fewer than two orgasms will be necessary to achieve this.”

“Two…aren’t you the ambitious one?” she said with a teasing undertone.

“I am following my programming and my desires. That requires both data and physical manifestations.”

Upon stating those words, his internal physiological systems sent a signal from his machine matrix to his biological matrix. Specifically, it sent the single to make his penis, as had been carefully crafted with a mix of synthetic flesh and cybernetic parts, fully erect and ready for intercourse. The efficiency with which that state was achieved triggered a reaction in Amanda consistent with shock.

“Wow!” she said. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen a dick get hard in my life. Is that feature standard?”

“It is a practical feature,” Adam told her. “If you wish, I can make it somewhat harder.”

“No, that’s okay!” she said quickly. “I’m just…trying to keep up with all this.”

“As of this moment in this intimate testing, you need not concern yourself,” Adam assured her. “I’ve formulated a plan. I’ve processed the data. I know how I will satisfy you. You need only lie back and enjoy it.”

She blushed again, showing signs of uncertainty, implying she was not convinced of his plan. Having crunched the necessary data, Adam was 97.8 percent certain of his success and he intended to allay Amanda’s doubts.

Initiating the final round of protocols, Adam got on top of Amanda and kissed her as she had done with him earlier. That triggered the emotional reaction he needed. She, and women like her, valued that emotional stimulation as much as the physical stimulation. With that feeling as the foundation, he initiated more foreplay as he trailed his lips down her body, taking in a flood of gustatory data in the process.

“Adam!” Amanda gasped, already voicing reflecting her excitement. “Your lips and hands…they feel so good.”

Her response evoked more emotional intensity in Adam. As he trailed his lips down her flesh, priming his taste function along the way, he lightly grasped her thighs and pushed them apart. Doing so revealed more of her feminine anatomy, including her vulva, labia, and clitoris. Such tender areas were already moist, indicating significant arousal. To ensure sufficient arousal, though, he needed more.

“I’m going to give you oral sex now,” Adam told her. “Please, enjoy it.”

Making another set of calculations, supplemented by strong emotional data, Adam utilized his lips and tongue to perform cunnilingus on Amanda. Her reaction was even stronger than he’d calculated. Her body shuddered, her lower back arching as her legs shifted erratically.

“Ooh Adam!” she cried out. “My pussy…so hot and wet. I might…I might actually come from this.”

“You will,” was all he told her.

Rather than waste time convincing her verbally, Adam employed the first part of his plan, using his lips and tongue to stimulate Amanda’s pussy in the most optimal way possible. He’d scanned, assessed, and calculated all the intricacies of her feminine anatomy to determine the necessary recourse. It was simply a matter of following the data.

By stimulating the right areas with his tongue and applying just the right amount of pressure to the clitoris, Adam sought to evoke enough pleasurable sensations to send Amanda into an orgasmic state. He calculated that it would take at least 6 minutes and 45 seconds for her to reached that state. She ended up needing only 3 minutes and 7 seconds.

“Ohhh my God! Adam, I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“As is my purpose,” said Adam, “and my desire.”

After ceasing his oral stimulation, Adam used his thumb to apply just enough pressure to the clitoris. The result was an orgasmic response in Amanda that exceeded most of his preliminary calculations.

Her orgasmic cries filled the room. She threw her head back, clenched the sheets of the bed, and moaned in ecstasy as her body shuddered in accord with the pleasure. The visual data of seeing Amanda in such a state evoked a specific state in Adam too. The empathetic aspects of his emotional core became extremely active. Seeing her in such pleasure gave him pleasure as well. It was a reward that went beyond his purpose.

“I pleasured Amanda,” he said, “and I felt pleasure as well…pleasure I wish to share with her.”

The data was once again clear, but now the urgency was even greater than before. He’d seen Amanda in a state of pleasure, but she was not yet satisfied, nor was his purpose fulfilled. To do so, he needed the last part of his plan.

First, he waited until Amanda’s orgasmic processes had passed. He watched with a smile on his expression as she caught her breath, eventually opening her eyes and affirming the extent of her euphoria. In that same gaze, he determined with 99.998 percent certainty that she wanted more.

“I’m going to insert my penis into you now,” he told her. “We’re going to engage in sexual intercourse until you achieve orgasm again.”

“Is that…a promise?” Amanda said, her demeanor dazed by pleasure.

“It is a certainty,” Adam told her.

He kissed her again, allaying whatever doubts she might have had, although her non-verbal cues hinted at none. Adam then positioned himself on top of her once more, parting her legs so that they were securely around his waist. From that position, he shifted his hands to her waist and aligned his pelvis with hers. As soon as he felt the tip of his male genitalia touch the entrance to hers, he trust his hips forward and entered her.

“Oohhh Adam!” Amanda cried out again, grasping onto his arms.

“Amanda,” he said, but was unable to articulate further intent.

Whether by processing limitations or purposeful programming, Adam’s every protocol focused on sex with Amanda. Every bit of data went into conducting the physical motions associated with it and the emotional data it evoked.

Having already crunched the numbers, Adam moved his body in series of rhythmic humping motions, which helped work his penis within Amanda’s vagina. The penetration was so smooth, the extent of her arousal providing maximum stimulation for her and for him. The data received from her feminine flesh surrounding his was wasn’t just good from a subjective perspective. It fit the criteria of amazing.

The data, in that context, could be perceived as pleasure. The data he gathered from Amanda’s reaction was similar. Using that data, he employed the optimal sexual rhythm, combined with the optimal series of gestures, including kissing on the neck and stimulation of the clitoris to bring her to a state of sufficient satisfaction. Only by satisfying her could he both fulfill his purpose and be satisfied himself.

“Adam! Oh Adam!” she exclaimed over the course of their sex. “What a man…what a machine! Ooh I love it!”

“Amanda…I will satisfy you,” said Adam. “I will satisfy…us.”

He proceeded to employ his plan, intensifying the pace and precision of their sex. He’d calculated it might take as long as 32 minutes and 44 seconds for Amanda to achieve a second orgasm. He’d since revised that calculation to only 5 minutes and 17 seconds. At the same time, he felt in his own biological and synthetic systems a unique feeling of his own.

“I think…I’m about to come too.”

It didn’t seem possible, the idea of a robot achieving orgasm. However, the data didn’t lie. The various physical sensations associated with their sex was consistent with that of the male orgasm. It transcended the criteria for good and amazing. It also made Amanda’s orgasm even more revealing.

“Ohh Adam!” she exclaimed as she neared that orgasmic threshold. “You’re…you’re really doing it! You’re going to…make me…come again!”

Finally, at the exact conclusion of that 5 minute and 17 second duration, Amanda Carrington achieved orgasm again. Adam, responding to fresh physical and emotional cues, took her hands in his and held on as her body contorted to the intense physical pleasure that followed. This time, however, it was a pleasure he shared.

As her body shuddered once more, the tight contractions squeezing his masculine genitalia, Adam felt a flood of data consistent with that of a sexual release. He let out a deep grunt, uncertain of how to sufficiently react. In experiencing the breadth of the data and the feeling behind it, though, he determined such details to be superfluous.

“I did it. I satisfied Amanda,” he said. “I also…satisfied myself too. Fulfilling my purpose brings pleasure to me and to my user. Such data is unexpected, but potentially revealing.”

Adam surmised that Amanda had not heard those musings. In processing the data of her facial expressions, she was in such an intense state of ecstasy that such trivial data was not vital. That was deemed acceptable for Adam. Having processed so much data, physical and otherwise, he was content with the results.

After he and Amanda had concluded their sex, he withdrew his penis from her and laid down next to her. He sensed from her demeanor that she did not have the energy or desire to leave the bed. Instead, she curled her body up next to his, looking up at him with a gaze of affection that kept his emotional core extremely active.

“Wow! You are a very special creature, Adam,” Amanda said.

“I am Adam One. I am simply fulfilling my purpose,” he told her, reflexively reiterating his core programming.

“Well, you’ve definitely succeeded!” she told him. “But you’re not just a program within the robot body of a very attractive man. You’re something more than that.”

“You say that with such certainty. Are you certain that the lingering effects of multiple orgasms has not clouded your perceptions?”

“Ha! Are you kidding? I’ve never thought clearer before in my life!”

In joyous state that fit the definition of afterglow, as his systems defined it, Amanda got on top of him, her naked body resting atop hers. Adam still had so much data to process, too much to determine the greater meaning of her words and actions. However, he soon found himself fully engaged to this woman and all the rich data she had to provide.

“Now, I definitely know why my father sent you to me,” Amanda said. “He programmed something special into you…something he believes I can help you refine. To do that, though, we’re going to need a lot more tests. I intend to make that my purpose from here on out.”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“The Camping Trip” A Sexy Short Story

jockeycampingcouple

The following a sexy short story I wrote about camping, bad weather, and romance. Enjoy!

“Hurry up, Claire! The storm’s getting really bad,” said Brent Bowers as a fresh round of booming thunder echoed from the sky.

“I’m aware of that, Brent! You think I didn’t see the lightning?” Claire replied as she stumbled through muddy terrain.

“I wasn’t busting your chops, babe. I’ve seen these kind of storms before. I know how bad they can get. We just need to hunker down in the tent and wait it out.”

“I’ll move faster if you admit leaving the car behind was a mistake.”

“I’ll admit I caused the Great Depression if you’ll pick up the pace!” he said with growing urgency.

Claire Conners groaned as she toiled through pouring rain, sharp winds, and a steady procession of thunder and lightning. It was like running through a waterfall. Her clothes were already soaked, her boots were covered in mud, and her face felt numb from all the rain and wind. It was pretty much the opposite of what her boyfriend of the past year had promised her.

Unlike her, a pretty girl from the suburbs whose idea of roughing it involved poor WiFi, Brent was an experienced outdoorsman. He spent half his life on a farm and the other half working on an oil rig off the cost. The man knew how to survive the elements, as evidenced by his tall, burly frame. He was very different from the kind of guy who complained about getting dirt on their fancy dress shoes, which was part of what attracted her to him.

At the moment, though, Brent’s rugged good looks did little to temper her mood. Claire was just about ready to call her first camping trip a mistake. Finally, just as an ominous bolt of lightning flashed in the clouds above, the tent that took them way too long to pitch earlier came into view.

“There it is!” Brent said, keeping his hand on her back to guide her along. “We’re almost there. We’re going to be fine.”

“Really?” she shouted over the thunder. “You think we’re going to be fine in that?”

“Yes,” he told her. “Trust me.”

Claire muttered a string of curses under her breath. Those were the same words he used when he convinced her to go camping with him. He’d made some pretty lofty claims and, blinded by love and plenty of other feelings, she believed him. Brent had delivered on so many promises to her since they started dating. He picked a hell of a time to come up short.

She tried not to get too upset with him as she sprinted through the pouring rain, stepping into some pretty thick mud in the process. By the time they arrived at the tent, she could barely feel her feet from the cold and her face might as well have been ice.

“Get inside and get out of those boots,” Brent said to her. “I’m going to secure the base of the tent.”

“Normally, I’d offer to help,” Claire said dryly, “but after you assured me the weather would hold up for the night…”

“I know. I should’ve trusted the weather app on my phone,” he said begrudgingly. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Just let me make sure we can wait this out, first.”

There was another promise and for once, Claire wasn’t as confident that Brent could deliver. Being soaked, wet, and miserable, she chose not to bemoan him. She just climbed into the tent as quickly as she could, leaving Brent to do his thing.

Once inside, the feeling of rain and wind not hitting her face came as a relief. It gave her a chance to catch her breath and get somewhat comfortable again, at least as much as her surroundings allowed. As she took off her mudded boots and socks, still trying to get the feeling back in her feet, Claire let out a frustrating groan that was just barely muted by the thunder.

“Why did I agree to this?” she wondered out loud. “Why did I fall for a man who doesn’t appreciate air conditioning and hot showers?”

They were questions born from exasperation. They also already had answers that she couldn’t escape, no matter how miserable she felt.

As crawled over to her sleeping bag and hugged her knees for warmth, Claire recalled the circumstances that led her to accept Brent’s camping invitation. She’d spent the previous three weeks, doing extra over time at the law firm she worked out, getting so stressed out that she yelled at the pizza delivery boy for running out of dipping sauce.

After that memorable incident, both Brent and her friends convinced her that she was over-worked and over-stressed. It didn’t take much convincing. She didn’t used to be such a workaholic. In fact, back in college and high school, she had a reputation as a girl who liked to have fun and fool around. Her teenage self probably would’ve had fun on a camping trip like this.

On paper, the idea of just getting away from work, the city, and her hectic life in general seemed like a great idea. Brent, who went camping at least once a month, said it would be therapeutic for her, getting her into a simpler environment where she could escape all the noise and distractions.

“God, why did he have to make so much sense when he pitched this?” Claire moaned. “Was I really that desperate?”

She muttered more curses because she already knew the answer to that as well. Both Brent and her friends had pointed out how hectic her life had gotten. Between long hours at the law firm, buying her first condo, and managing all sorts of professional and personal relationships, she’d stretched herself so thin. Getting her way, just to catch her breath, just sounded so logical.

That was why she accepted Brent’s invitation to go camping with him. She was so stressed out that she’d been willing to try anything. She’d even agreed to leave her phone behind at the car when they first arrived. Thinking of how she ended up in her current predicament, Claire realized something important.

“Who am I kidding? I have no one to blame but myself.”

Still hugging her knees, Claire shook her head and cursed herself. She shouldn’t have been so messed up. She used to be so fun and energetic. That changed after she landed her dream job at one of the biggest law firms in the state. She’d been so determined to establish herself that she broke up with the last guy she’d been dating less than three months into it. That guy still wanted to have fun and fool around. She didn’t. She had to be more serious about her life.

She still made an effort, though. That was how Claire ended up with Brent in the first place. He was a man more serious and mature than all the other guys she’d dated. He was also the first guy she dated who didn’t finish college, didn’t work in an air-conditioned office, and didn’t even own a suit. He was a different kind of man, one who had so many attractive traits. It was just hard to appreciate them in her current state.

The rain kept pouring harder, pounding the outside of the tent with a vengeance. More thunder and lightning followed along with heavy gusts of wind. It blew at the walls and foundation of the tent, but it remained stable. Whatever Brent did was working. When he finally entered, he looked somewhat relieved.

“That should do it,” he said breathlessly while dripping wet from the rain. “I added a couple cinderblocks to the stakes. Nothing short of a tornado is going to knock this tent down.”

“Is that another promise or just more wishful thinking?” asked Claire dryly. “Because honestly, I’m not sure you know the difference at this point.”

“It’s the truth, Claire. I know what I’m doing. We’re going to get through this. That’s a promise I know I can keep.”

Claire wanted to scoff, but Brent made that hard for her. That sincere tone along with that country boy attitude just made it hard to stay mad at him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who just told people what he thought they wanted to hear. That was how lawyers spoke and she dealt with enough lawyers at her job. Brent was different and not just because he had the kind of unkempt facial hair that would’ve been out of place in a court room.

Watching him zip up the tent, take off his coat, and dry himself off with a nearby blanket, she saw a man who remained calm and focused in any situation. She’d actually met him at a conference that her firm held in conjunction with the drilling company he worked for. The power went off shortly before the festivities began and everybody was freaking out. Brent was the only one who maintained a level head.

He ended up fixing the power with help from a friend of his, saving the conference and impressing her enough to ask him out. He accepted and from there, he’d kept every promise to her. He made every effort to be the kind of mature, serious man that any woman would’ve loved. The fact he was also so ripped from working on farms and oil rigs certainly helped too.

“Storms like this usually hit hard, but end fast,” Brent said as he dried off his hair and beard. “I doubt it’ll last more than a couple hours, at most.”

“Doubting is not the same as knowing. Take it from someone who spends way too much time around lawyers,” Claire said.

“That’s all you can really do with nature. Out here, things are a lot less certain. You can’t argue or negotiate your way out of a situation. You just got to adapt.”

“That would be so comforting if we weren’t trapped.”

That sounded so pathetic. It wasn’t like they were trapped on top of a mountain. They were less than 20 miles from a motel near a gas station. Her lack of experience in the wilderness really showed.

Brent didn’t make much of it, though. He just crawled over to her, grabbed a dry blanket from his sleeping bag, and wrapped it around her. It gave her the first feeling of warmth she’d experienced since the rain started falling.

“We’re not trapped. I already made sure of that,” he told her with a reassuring gesture. “We’re far enough from the bank so we don’t have to worry about flooding. I packed us plenty of dry goods in case we got stuck. I also know these parts so we can get to the nearest backroads of we have to.”

“Good thing I went to the bathroom down by the river,” she muttered.

“This isn’t the first heavy storm I’ve waited out, either. I’ve been in rougher places with people who aren’t half as tough as you.”

“Funny,” Claire scoffed. “I’m not feeling too tough right now.”

“Babe, you wouldn’t have come out here with me if you weren’t tougher than most,” he told her.

“I thought I came with you because you said I needed to get away from work, home, and pretty much everything else.”

“I hope that’s not the only reason. I’m still hoping I can give you more before tomorrow morning.”

There was that country boy sincerity again. It was so hard to resent. Being so wet and cold, Claire couldn’t help but lean into his warmth either. Between his strength and his imposing physique, typical of that of man who did heavy lifting on an oil rig, there was so much strength in his presence. She needed that strength, as well as the warmth that came with it.

As they huddled close, Brent turned on one of their LED camp lamps. That brought some welcome light to the dreary ambience around them. The howling winds, the pouring rain, and the frequent thunder created a feeling of chaos and danger. In her youth, she would’ve braved that. In her current state, it just made her feel vulnerable.

“I know this isn’t entirely want I promised you,” Brent said. “Believe me, I wanted this to be peaceful, quiet, and relaxing.”

“On that, I trust you,” said Claire with a sigh.

“This was supposed to be a weekend to get away from it all,” he went on, “no work, no cell phones, no distractions, and above all…no complications. Out here, it’s just survive and adapt. No bills to pay. No needless chores. Nothing elaborate that needs us to be more than we are.”

“Is that why you love camping?”

“It’s not about doing something I love doing. It’s about doing something to help the woman I love.”

He hugged her closer in his arms. Despite her dour mood and bad attitude, Brent still embraced her with those powerful arms of his. That didn’t just provide her with some badly needed warmth. It reminded her why she loved this man.

“I don’t deserve a boyfriend like you, Brent,” Claire said.

“Don’t say that. I like to think people earn the love of the right people,” he said.

“Well, by that standard, I don’t think I’ve done my part.”

“Now why do you say that? Just because things aren’t going well on our first camping trip doesn’t mean you’ve failed. Shit like this is totally beyond our control.”

“It’s not about control. It’s how I reacted when I don’t have it. Hell, the more I think about it, the more surprised I am that I didn’t have a breakdown much sooner.”

It sounded so pathetic, getting so overwhelmed by a simple storm during a camping trip. Having only arrived at the site a few hours ago, she’d barely gotten a chance to enjoy the peace and quiet. It still felt like she’d carried all those burdens from back home with her and was taking that out on Brent, a man who went out of his way to help her.

That didn’t stop him from holding her closer. If anything, he seemed more determined to shelter her through the raging storm. That comforted her, but it also reminded her of how messed up she’d been.

“Since we’ve been together – and even a little before that – I’ve become way more uptight than I thought possible,” she went on. “Hell, I used to be adventurous. The younger me would’ve taken this trip with you after our second date.”

“I still see traces of that girl in you, Claire,” he told her.

“Well, you must be looking in the wrong places because that girl disappeared as soon as her job became the center of her life. Suddenly, I had to be the kind of girl who always controlled a situation.”

“I wouldn’t say you were that bad.”

“Brent, I sent itineraries for our first date. I texted you a list of pizza toppings I absolutely hate. I even set up a schedule for sex.”

Brent opened his mouth to respond, but stopped himself before he could get a word out. He ended up laughing awkwardly instead, which would’ve been adorable if another round of thunder hadn’t echoed from outside. To some extent, that further proved her point.

“The point is…the girl you first met was only in the process of becoming this uptight workaholic,” she continued. “You actually got to watch her become the basket case she is now.”

“Hey, there’s still some good in that girl too,” he said, affectionately caressing her face. “We all need a little order in our lives. That’s a big part of why I fell in love with you. I think there’s room for both those girls.”

“I want to believe that too. I need some goddamn balance back in my life, both for my sanity and for you. I love you too much to be the kind of girl who just whines when things don’t go her way.”

“And I love you too much to let you become that girl,” Brent said. “I want to help you get a hold of yourself…to be the girl who didn’t mind taking chances and the girl who can get a hold of herself during a storm.”

“You really think that’s possible for me?” Claire asked, still skeptical.

“I know so. Things is…it isn’t up to me how you go about it. I’m just here to give you chances. It’s up to you to decide what you want to do with them.”

An extra loud gust of wind howled outside their tent, as though nature were trying to add urgency to her choice. Claire found herself tensing up and clinging to Brent a little harder, taking in more of his warmth and adjusting to a situation that she could not control.

In doing so, she looked up at his rugged complexion. There was so much strength in his demeanor, along with facial hair and scars from his work. It showed that he was a man who didn’t mind braving danger and enduring hardship. It reflected his strength as well as his manly sex appeal. Even in the midst of a storm, it had an effect on her.

At the same time, though, that effect revealed something unexpected to her. The raging storm, the stress from work, and the man who’d gone out of his way to be with her – it all sent her a message, one that she’d refused to heed.

“Make a decision,” she said distantly.

In that moment, gazing up at her boyfriend as more lightning flashed outside, a new feeling inside her…one she hadn’t felt in quite some time. That fun-loving, adventurous girl she’d been in her youth finally emerged from her workaholic shell. That version of Claire Conners had to make this decision and the person she’d since become had to accept it.

“Brent,” Claire said after the latest round of thunder passed.

“Yes, Claire?” he asked, still gazing at the LED lamp.

“Make love to me,” she told him.

Brent turned and looked at her as though she’d just grown a second head. That had probably been the last decision from her that he expected to hear. He even blinked a few times in disbelief.

“Um…come again?”

“You heard me, Brent,” Claire said. “Make love to me…in this tent…during a major storm.”

That sounded even crazier when she put it into words, but she remained dead serious. Claire slipped her arms around his neck and leaned in closer, letting him know that he’d heard right and she meant what she said. She really did want him to make love to her at that very moment.

“That’s bold, reckless, and downright impulsive for you, Claire…and I like it!” said Brent.

“Is that your country boy way of saying you’ll do me?” she said clinging to him with more desperation.

“It can be for this and all future camping trips.”

Seeming totally convinced, Brent kissed her passionately on the lips, his wet hair and beard now right in her face. She eagerly kissed back, finding that disheveled feeling an unexpected turn-on. Maybe it was because she’d made the decision on a whim, surrounded by natural chaos she couldn’t control, that it made her so hot.

Dread gave way to excitement. That excitement was fueled by passion as their kissing quickly escalated. The blanket still around her, she pounced onto her lover, throwing her legs around her waist so that he had to take her fully into his arms. From there, they laid down atop her open sleeping back. More kissing followed, soon evolving into full-blown foreplay.

Before long, that wet, cold feeling from being soaked turned into something else. Suddenly, Claire felt a new warmth in her core, one awakened by both her decision and her passions. It made her more aware of her wet, uncomfortable clothes. Even in pouring rain and howling winds, she had to get them off.

“Get undressed,” she said urgently. “I need to feel your skin on mine!”

“That…should help preserve body heat,” said Brent, already sounding dazed.

“Yeah, let that be the reason for getting naked together,” Claire teased.

They both laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed during this trip. She kept on laughing as she rose up from Brent, still on top of him, and slid off her short-sleeved T-shirt and unhooked her bra. As soon as her breasts were exposed to the cold, Brent reached up and fondled them with those burly hands of his. They both kept them warm and added to her arousal.

“So strong and warm,” Claire purred, “just what I needed.”

As Brent rubbed her breasts, she went to work undressing him, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and undoing the belt buckle to his pants. He eagerly shifted his body under her, getting that wet shirt off and pushing down on his pants to get them off. She eagerly assisted, leaving him in a pair of boxers that had been soaked by the storm as well.

Now exposed and clearly in need of some warmth as well, Brent took the initiative, as only he could, and wrapped his powerful arms around her once more. They kissed again, her exposed upper body making contact with his chiseled, hairy chest. It filled her with a fresh round of warmth, just in time for another round of thunder, no less. That quickly became background noise as the foreplay continued.

As their lips and tongues twirled, Brent laid her down on top of the sleeping bag and helped her undo her denim shorts. He then pulled them down her legs, along with her panties, rendering her completely naked. Brent quickly removed his boxers as well, revealing an already sizable erection. Being alone, in nature, and with his girlfriend really turned him on. Something about that just brought a smile to her face.

“Does getting naked with a beautiful woman really make you that horny?” Claire teased.

“Would it be weird if I said yes?” he replied sheepishly.

“I guess that depends on how well you make love to me now.”

“Good to know.”

He replied as though she’d just challenged him, giving him extra incentive to make their lovemaking extra special. She hadn’t intended to send that massage, but she was more than happy to accept the results.

Now naked, still wet and surrounded by muggy cold, Brent pulled the top layer of the sleeping back over top their bodies and got on top of her. Like a miniature cocoon, they were insulated from the elements and he made good use of it.

Now a man on a mission, he got on top of her, kissing and touching her with the utmost passion. So much of his naked body touched hers, conveying both badly-needed warmth and growing desire. He felt up the curves of her feminine frame with one hand while slipping the other between her legs, his strong fingers now grazing the folds of her pussy.

“Ooh Brent!” she gasped. “Your making me so wet!”

“Not because of the rain, I hope,” he teased.

They laughed again and resumed their kissing. She let out more moans as his fingers slid into her pussy, turning that warmth within her core into real heat. As her body writhed under the weight of growing arousal, she felt his penis getting harder as it rubbed against her thigh. The more their bodies touched and more their hands roamed, the greater the need for his intimate warmth.

Despite the ongoing noise from the rain, wind, and thunder, Brent never lost focus. Claire tried to do her part too, wildly raking her hands over his shoulders and back, providing some heat of her own to supplement his arousal. It might have been the most chaotic situation in which she ever had sex and yet, she’d never wanted it so badly.

“Are you ready, Claire?” Brent finally asked her.

“Yes, Brent. I’m ready!” Claire said without hesitation.

Heeding her words, her rugged lover repositioned himself accordingly. Claire did so as well, spreading her legs and wrapping them around his waist in a more intimate embrace. He then carefully maneuvered himself so that his member was aligned with her wet entrance. Her hands now locked on his shoulders while his eyes remained locked with hers, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ohhh Brent!” Claire moaned.

Her reaction was almost entirely muted by more thunder. It was as though nature was goading her and Brent to make love in the midst of such chaos. Never one to back down from a challenge, Claire gladly rose to the occasion with her lover.

His rigid flesh now deep inside her womanly depths, she kissed him again as their naked bodies began moving together in an intimate union. Even within the confines of a sleeping bag, Brent had plenty of leverage. With each motion her world rocked, his manhood slithering sensually within her womanhood. Their united flesh created more heat – a heat that overpowered any the elements could throw at them.

“Yes! This is what I wanted…what I needed,” she moaned as their naked bodies rocked. “Brent…my love…you kept your promise after all!”

That seemed to motivate him even more. With a grin and a determined glint in his eyes, the burly man stepped up the pace of their sex. Wet naked skin meshed and glided together with ease, sweat mixing with the moisture from the storm. It was like taking the discomfort of nature and turning it into their own unique ecstasy. Something about that just felt so right, as well as so pleasurable.

Claire soon found herself sharing in the effort, kissing her lover and raking her nails down his back. She put more energy into this sex than she had since her fun-loving college years. That version of Claire Conners that knew how to have a good time was officially back and she had been missed.

Through the thunder and the howling wind, she and Brent made the kind of energetic love that felt befitting of a raging storm. They rolled around in the sleeping bag, creating so much heat that the sweat form their bodies soon replaced any remaining moisture from the rain. Somewhere along the way, they ended up with her on her side and him spooning her from behind, eagerly pumping his cock into her in a determined push for her climax.

Now clinging to his arms, bucking her hips every time he thrust into her, Claire could already feel that special ecstasy coming on. It came faster than she expected, as if to reflect the chaos around her.

“Brent, I…I’m coming! I’m about to…come!” Claire cried out.

“Me…me too, babe,” Brent said with labored grunts.

The pace of their sex steadied. Her body was like a spark ready to ignite an inferno. During the final push, she locked her hands with his, their fingers becoming entwined like their bodies. Then, with a few more thrusts, he sent her over the edge.

“Ohhhh Brent!” she exclaimed.

At that moment, she made damn sure she was louder than the thunder. A fresh wave of it echoed from the sky just as she entered an orgasmic state. It was no use, though. She was still louder.

In a moan that could probably be heard by all of nature, Claire climaxed. Her lower body erupted in a surge of heat, sending shudders of raw pleasure up through her body. As she contorted to the feeling, Brent came as well, letting out the deepest, manliest grunt she’d ever heard as he shared in the ecstasy.

It was a beautifully intimate moment in the midst of a raging storm, their bodies consumed with pure pleasure. She felt their hot juices mixing inside her, creating a special warmth that felt just perfect for the situation. After being so cold and uncomfortable just a few moments ago, it was a perfect inversion of her situation…one she chose in a moment of adventurous passion.

“I love you, Brent,” she said.

“I love you too, Claire,” Brent replied.

As they caught their breath together, panting heavily as the rain and wind kept making more noise, they kissed again. Clair then rolled over so that she was lying on her side next to him, their naked bodies still entwined within the sleeping bag. Now warm and content, it was safe to say the camping trip had been a success.

“So,” said Brent after their lips parted, “are you officially a fan of camping now?”

“It’s starting to grow on me,” she said playfully. “For the kind of job I have and the kind of boyfriend I have, I think I could make it part of my life.”

“And I promise I’ll make it both appealing and therapeutic.”

“Spoken like a true man of his word,” Claire said affectionately, “ and a man who can brave any storm for the woman he loves.”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

Sexy Short Story: Maximum Effort (Inspired By Deadpool)

deadpool-fireplace

The following is a sexy short story I wrote entitled, “Maximum Effort.” Like “Avenging Desire” before it, this was inspired by a superhero movie, specifically “Deadpool 2.” As such, expect an appropriately crude, but inherently sexy tale. Enjoy!

“One more, Stan!” said Wendy Maxwell from across the bar.

“Just one more?” the middle-aged man asked with a crooked grin.

“You heard me right. I’m saving my appetite tonight,” she said proudly. “Deadpool 2 is one movie I want to stay hungry for!”

“You sure you want to say that out loud?” he joked.

“I know what I said. I’m not taking it back.”

Wendy spoke with a certainty that left no room for argument, even from her Uncle Stan. He owned one of the best sports bars in town, which happened to be right across the street from the High-Max Cinema movie theater. She could see the oversized complex out the window and couldn’t wait to make her way inside in a few hours. She planned to be among the first in line to see Deadpool 2.

She’d cleared her schedule for the day, taking off work and taking care of any errands that might create a distraction. She’d also made it a point to pre-order her ticket and reserve the best possible seats in the biggest IMAX theater within a 25-mile radius of her house. She could’ve just gone to the one at the mall that was closer, but in the spirit of Deadpool himself, Wendy approached seeing this movie with maximum effort.

“I got to say, Wendy,” her Uncle Stan said from behind the bar, “I didn’t peg you for the superhero fan. A few years ago, I don’t think you knew the difference between Spider-Man and Batman.”

“What can I say?” she said. “A lot can change in the span of a few years.”

“I’ll say!” her uncle said. “One day, you’re agonizing over which generic action flick you can tolerate with your friends. The next, you’re prepared to drop kick someone who tries to buy the last Deadpool-themed bra.”

“You sound so proud,” Wendy teased. “My mom is convinced I’m just overcompensating after my ex-boyfriend ditched me for his roommate’s sister.”

“Eh, what does she know? You’re more self-aware than she ever was.”

“Kind of like Deadpool himself!” she pointed out.

“No argument here.”

Wendy laughed as her uncle poured her one last cup of coffee before. She’d just about finished her dinner, which consisted of a small sandwich and some soup. It was light, but for good reason. She didn’t just want to save room for popcorn. She wanted to make sure she didn’t miss a second of the movie. That meant minimizing the risk of bathroom breaks, drowsiness, and an upset stomach.

She had never taken such elaborate precautions for a movie before. Then again, she’d never been so enthusiastic about a movie, either. That was before she saw the first Deadpool movie two years ago. She actually hadn’t intended to see it. Her now ex-boyfriend had bought them tickets to see it. Then, the day before the premier, he dumped her, but left her the ticket.

Never one to turn down a free movie, she just went and saw it. From the very beginning, with that hilariously vulgar opening credits scene, Wendy was hooked. She had no idea who Deadpool was or why the movie was such a big deal. By the time it ended, though. She was hooked. She needed to laugh. She needed to see something crude, funny, and vulgar after her breakup. Deadpool was the perfect medicine.

After that day, she became a full-fledged Deadpool fan. She started buying Deadpool comics, following Deadpool-related forms, and even found herself getting into the larger world of superhero comics. It helped that her brother loved comics. He helped catch her up and even got her into cos-playing at a comic book convention last year. It had been so much fun and it all started with Deadpool.

For Wendy, seeing Deadpool 2 was like completing a process. She’d been such a workaholic after graduating college, pulling long hours at the software company she worked at. Her former boyfriend got her to lighten up somewhat, but it was Deadpool who helped her achieve a greater epiphany.

“Maximum effort…for the right reasons,” Wendy said to herself with a smile before finishing the last of her sandwich.

It had been one of the many memorable lines from the first movie. She was good at giving lots of effort, but never with much passion. Deadpool, both the character in the comics and the one Ryan Reynolds brought to life in the movie, channeled his passion and wit into everything he did. Whether it was shooting up Ajax’s crew or trying to hook up with Death herself in the comics, he did everything with personality.

That helped Wendy so much, both in her professional life and her personal life. She’d made more friends, done better at work, and even embraced a more distinct dress style. For the Deadpool 2 premier, she’d dyed parts of her hair red, wore a Deadpool-themed halter top, and even wore Deadpool-themed underwear.

It might have been quirky for most, but it helped that she was far from the only one in her Uncle’s bar. Looking around, she saw a lot of fellow Deadpool fans showing off their attire. Some were dressed in costumes. Some were showing off their Deadpool-themed tattoos. Everyone seemed to share in the excitement, but Wendy doubted that excitement was as intimate or personal.

As she wiped her hands on her napkin, her Uncle Stan arrived with the coffee. Once served, she took a quick sip and held it up proudly.

“To Deadpool,” she said to her Uncle, “the man who got me through some tough times and helped me put maximum effort into being awesome.”

“Cheers to that, Wendy,” her Uncle Stan said, rolling her eyes. “You talk about the guy like he’s your crush instead of a comic book character.”

“What can I say? He made me laugh at a time when I was crying over my ex. He inspired me to laugh at the overall absurdities of life. He even got me to dye my hair for the first time since high school. And nobody needed to dare me!”

“I’m glad he’s been such a positive influence. Just don’t start measuring all the men in your life to the same standards as comic book characters or Ryan Reynolds.”

“Relax, Uncle Stan!” Wendy said as she took another sip of her coffee. “I intend to maintain the positivity. I mean, it’s not like I’ll just up and fuck the first guy who dresses like Deadpool and talks like Ryan Reynolds or something.”

The older man laughed and shook his head before going back to serving other customers. Wendy went back to finishing her coffee, occasionally checking her phone to see how much longer she would have to wait. She still had a solid two hours before the movie. It promised to be an agonizing wait, but with each passing second she grew more excited.

“It’s almost here!” she said to herself. “Deadpool 2 is almost here! God, I wish there was a way to make the wait go faster.”

Moments after saying those words, I figure walked up to the bar next to her. He seemed to come out of nowhere. He was tall, well-built, and wearing a full-bodied Deadpool costume the likes of which she hadn’t seen since that comic book convention she went to with her brother. It looked like a perfect duplicate of the costume Ryan Reynolds wore in the first Deadpool movie.

“Hey bartender!” the man in the costume called out. “Whose balls do you have to fondle to pay the check? And for the record…yes, I moisturize!”

Wendy’s heart skipped a beat and her panties got a little warmer. She swore that voice sounded just like Ryan Reynolds, but it couldn’t be him. For one, the man in the costume looked taller than Ryan and there was no way big Hollywood star would be at her Uncle’s small-time bar, especially one married to Blake Lively.

At the same time, however, she found herself staring at him intently. Someone who put that much effort into a costume must have at least half her appreciation of all things Deadpool. Even after one of her uncle’s other bartenders came buy and processed his check, he still carried himself like the Merc with a Mouth himself.

“Hey,” Wendy called out. “How many times have you asked about ball-fondling today?”

The man in the suit turned towards her and seemed immediately intrigued. Even through that mask, Wendy sensed him smiling.

“That depends,” he replied jokingly. “Do you consider yourself for or against? How important is it to you that balls be fondled?”

“Well, it wasn’t that important to me until a few years ago,” Wendy said, mirroring his tone.

“A few years ago? You mean the same time that saint of a man, Ryan Reynolds, cracked a joke about it in the first Deadpool movie?”

“Oh, it was no joke to me. If making that move required fondling Wolverine’s balls, be they Hugh Jackman’s or anyone who looks like him, then I say ball fondling has proved its worth!”

They both laughed. The man barely even noticed when the bartender gave him his check back. Now leaning on the side of the bar, he leaned in a little closer. Again, she sensed a unique look through his mask. He was still smiling at her and in a very flirtatious way. The fact he smelled like fresh chimichangas – which had become her favorite snack food, by default – certainly helped.

“I take it from the dyed hair, the Hot Topic shirt, and the appreciation of ball-fondling jokes that you’re as excited about Deadpool 2 as me,” the man said.

“Well, I’d certainly say I’m excited, but you being as excited?” Wendy questioned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For one, I don’t’ see a boner in your pants. Trust me, if I was a man. I’d be so hard right now I’d have to wear a dress.”

“You don’t say?” he said with a laugh. “So you’ve been glancing at my man parts?”

“Are you going to tell me that you’re not looking down my shirt right now, hoping your mask will hide it?”

Wendy, showing more playfulness that would’ve made Deadpool proud, leaned in closer so that her breasts were plainly visible through her halter top. She didn’t even need to gaze through his mask. She knew he liked what he saw. He didn’t even try to avoid it.

“I’ll plead the fifth on that,” he said. “I’ll also plead that you’re not here with someone…like, for instance, a jealous boyfriend who has the muscle mass of Colossus.”

“I’m alone,” she told him with a flirty look. “In fact, I’ve been single since I saw the first Deadpool movie.”

“Really? A pretty girl like you, one who’s willing to wear Deadpool-themed clothes that blatantly show off your breasts, is single? I find that hard to believe. And I know someone who paid to see the Green Lantern movie.”

“Believe it!” Wendy said confidently. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that Deadpool has been the most important man in my life since my last breakup. You could say he’s become a passion of mine.”

“A passion?” he said with more intrigue. “Are we talking stamp collecting here or the kind that requires a spare pair of panties?”

“I own a vibrator that I’ve covered in no fewer than 16 Deadpool stickers. What do you think?”

Wendy hadn’t intended to sound that dirty, but she couldn’t help herself. Between her excitement surrounding Deadpool 2 and the man looking and sounding so much like Deadpool, her passion for the character was mixing with other passions. It also wasn’t lost on her that she hadn’t had sex since she broke up with her ex-boyfriend. On the night of a new Deadpool movie, it seemed more relevant.

She felt the gaze of the man in the costume narrow. She even swore she saw a slight bulge in his pants. She wasn’t exactly being subtle, but neither was he. Maybe that was just a byproduct of dressing like Deadpool, but it still did the trick. It still got her hotter than Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively in a sauna.

“I think,” the man said in a deeper tone, “that we might be able to help each other.”

“Are you saying you have more stickers?” she quipped in a flirty tone.

“I’m saying I’m here by myself as well. I had a girlfriend, but she didn’t care for Deadpool movies. She even tried to make me throw this costume away.”

“Sounds like a total bitch. You were right to dump her.”

“I haven’t regretted it for a second,” he said, “although I can’t say the same for my penis. It’s been lonely, to say the least, and there’s only so much I can do with hand lotion and re-watching Van Wilder on cable.”

“That’s so sad.”

“It is,” he said, “but if you know a place nearby that’s private and good at screening awkward noises, I think we can help each other.”

The man leaned in even closer, so much so that she could smell his breath and the manly scent emanating within the costume. It smelled like a mix of tacos, hot sauce, and pure manliness. It proved plenty potent, sending Wendy’s heart and hormones into overdrive.

She’d yet to see the man’s face. She’d yet to even get his name. However, he was dressed as Deadpool, had a clear appreciation of all things Deadpool, and appreciated his mannerisms. On a night when Wendy was determined to celebrate all things Deadpool, the idea of fucking a guy dressed like him just seemed too fitting.

It was reckless, crude, and something Deadpool would totally do. Wendy, feeling adventurous in a way that only Deapdool could inspire, decided to take a chance. After all, she still had plenty of time between now and the movie premier. Why not try to pass the time with a little Deadpool-themed kink?

“As it just so happens,” Wendy said with a seductive glance, “there’s an isolated little nook out back…one only I know about because my uncle trusts me way too damn much.”

“Hmm…that could work,” the man said with growing excitement.

“I’ll take you there under one condition.”

“Name it! And I promise that’s not just my penis talking.”

“You keep that costume on. That includes the mask,” she told him. “Also, I don’t want you to give me your real name or anything. Just let me call you Wade.”

“Keep the costume on, keep my name secret, and let you call me Wade,” he said, pretending to think about it, “all in exchange for some kinky sex. Normally, I would take a moment to pray to the gods of Stan Lee and Rob Liefield for guidance, but I think I’ve got their blessing with this!”

“Good!” she said intently. “Because on a night like this, I intend and expect maximum effort!”

Casting aside all restraint and reservation, Wendy just left a couple twenty-dollar bills under her half-finished coffee before grabbing the man by the arm. Then, with an energy and intent that surprised her more than him, led him out of the bar through the rear entrance. Most customers weren’t allowed back there, but since her Uncle owned the place, she gave her a pass.

The man she now called Wade eagerly followed, staying close by and slipping his gloved hand into her back pocket, giving her butt a firm squeeze. It got her to move a little faster, making her inner thighs feel hotter in the process. Between excitement for a movie and a lengthy sexual drought, her body seemed extra receptive to a little stimulation.

“You’ve got a nice ass,” Wade whispered into her ear as he followed her, “not quite as nice as Ryan Reynolds, but still close.”

“Stay close,” Wendy replied in a lurid tone. “I can use my ass as well as Deadpool uses his guns!”

“A bold claim,” he said. “I’d like to see you prove it!”

“Oh I will!”

Still completely confident, she led Wade down a narrow hall, passing one of the cooks along the way. She ignored the strange look she gave him. She didn’t care if the whole bar saw her slip out. She was going to have sex this man. Then, she was going to see Deadpool 2. By every objective measure, it looked to be a damn good night.

Upon reaching the door, they burst out into the hot mid-May evening. They emerged in a back alley where nobody who wasn’t driving a delivery truck ventured, especially this late in the evening. As soon as the door closed, Wendy turned around and jumped Wade with the same fervor as Vanessa did in the first Deadpool movie.

Wade responded just as favorably, catching her in his arms and leading her back to the wall next to the door. Along the way, she kissed his mask, playfully licking around the mouth area while grinding her body up against his. She could already feel the bulge in his pants growing. She also felt him feel up her curves, squeezing her ass and tracing up along her waist. It got her so hot that her clothes became unbearably itchy.

“Wade…help me get this off,” she said, already breathless as she unzipped her pants.

“Gladly,” he replied.

Kicking off her sandals, not minding the dirty pavement on her feet, Wendy slid her pants down her legs with Wade’s help. In the process, she revealed the Deadpool-themed panties she’d been wearing, complete with an image of Deadpool’s face right over her pussy. She swore she heard Wade giggle.

“Ooh! Those are so cute,” he said to her, his hands already on the side.

“Help me get them off and I’ll let you smell them,” Wendy told him.

“Deal!”

She laughed again, but never lost focus. She slipped out of her panties quickly, leaving her naked from the waist down. As soon as they were off, she let Wade take them, who eagerly put them up to his mask. She watched as he took in a deep whiff, not unlike the one Deadpool did when he smelled his guns.

“Ooh yeah!” he said. “I’m touching myself later.”

“Better make it much later!” said Wendy. “Remember what we discussed about ball-fondling? I’m for it.”

As if to prove her point, she dropped to her knees and grabbed the side of Wade’s pants. By now, the bulge in his pants was pretty big. Getting it off was a bit of a challenge, but after doing the Deadpool-themed belt-buckle, she managed to pull the tight-fitting red pants down to his ankles, along with his boxers.

Much to Wendy’s surprise, the man wearing the suit was very well-endowed. He had the kind of manhood that Deadpool would’ve joked about to no end. At the moment, though, it was no laughing matter. Wendy was horny, excited, and daring. True to her word from earlier, she went to work fondling Wade’s balls and playfully stroking his cock.

“I fully approve…of your position on ball-fondling,” Wade teased.

“That’s not all I’m in favor of,” Wendy said in a lurid tone.

With one hand still cradling his balls, she shot the masked man a kinky glance before taking his dick into her mouth. From there, she began giving him oral sex, channeling her inner Vanessa from the first Deadpool movie. Wendy had given her ex-boyfriend oral sex on multiple occasions, but never with such effort and fervor.

“Holy fuck-knuckles, that’s good!” Wade moaned, still holding her panties to his masked face.

Encouraged, Wendy kept up her oral teasing, using her lips and tongue to full effect. It didn’t take long before Wade was leaning back on the wall for support, running his fingers through her hair with one hand while holding onto her panties with the other.

As she sucked him, Wendy felt her own arousal escalate. At one point, she slipped a free hand between her legs and fingered her vagina to get all the right juices flowing. Before long, she was ready for a new effort.

“Mmm…ready to fuck me, Wade?” she asked seductively after giving his cock one last lick.

“With maximum effort!” Wade replied.

With instinct and reflexes as powerful as Deadpool himself, Wendy shot up from the ground. Wade, seizing the initiative, took her in his arms briefly and turned her around so that she was up against the brick wall, facing away with her heart-shaped ass pointing at him.

His pants still around his ankles and his mask still on, the man she instead on calling Wade grabbed her by the waist and guided his dick into her with a single thrust. He was so hard and she was so wet. Like Deadpool and a young Bea Arthur, their flesh embraced one another.

“Ohhh fuck!” Wendy exclaimed into the humid evening air.

“Fuck…yeah!” Wade grunted.

Wendy’s world began rocking. Wade put in the same effort into fucking her as she had when she gave him oral sex. He was so energetic and thorough, pumping his manly flesh inside her and stimulating her womanly depths with every motion. Wendy bucked her hips with every thrust, leaning harder against the brick wall. It didn’t matter that it was dirty and reckless. They were just that excited about Deadpool 2.

He fucked her nice and hard in that position, his pelvis rhythmically smacking against her putt with each thrust. At one point, he grasped her but with one hand and reached up her shirt with the other, pulling down her bra and feeling one of her breasts. That added an extra bit of sensation to their sex. Wendy loved it and craved more.

“Harder, Wade! Fuck me harder!” she cried out.

“Nice boobs…hot pussy…super penis…I fucking love it!” Wade said.

They kept going at it, moaning and grunting in the dirty nook behind her Uncle’s bar. Somewhere along the way, he pulled out and turned her around so that she could jump him again, throwing her legs around her waist so he could fuck her just like Wade fucked Venassa in the first movie. Wendy eagerly embraced the opportunity.

Her back now against the wall, her breasts hanging out of her top, Wade held her legs up as he guided his dick back into her and resumed their sex. She held onto his shoulders as their bodies rocked to the rhythm. Wendy found herself gazing intensely into the masked face before her. Whether by fluke or kink, looking at it just made her hotter and pushed her faster towards her peak.

The sex was so intense and driven. In that moment, she wasn’t just fucking some random guy in a Deadpool costume. She was actually fucking Deadpool. He was Ryan Reyonld and she was Morena Baccarin. He was Wade Wilson and she was Vanessa. That thought, along with the steady onslaught of sexual sensations, brought her to the brink of orgasm.

“Ohhh I’m coming, Wade! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“Ooh yeah! Me too,” he grunted. “Fuck, I’m going to pop my fucking load in you!”

“Do it, Wade! I want to feel your Deadpool-loving cum inside me!”

That was probably the most vulgar thing she’d ever said during sex, even while drunk. Wendy didn’t care. She was loving it too damn much. It was just too damn fun.

After a few more powerful thrusts that tested her flexibility, and other various aspects of female anatomy, Wendy came hard. She came so hard that she scratched her nails down over the seams of the mask, tearing through parts of the fabric in the process. Her toes curled, her lower back arched, and her core was set ablaze with a fiery surge of pleasure.

As that feeling engulfed her, Wade let out a labored grunt of his own, tightening his hold on her butt as he steadied his hips in anticipation of his release. She then felt his dick throb inside her pussy, his manly juices mixing with hers.

In that moment of shared, Deadpool-driven ecstasy, she kissed the masked men with passion, knowing that she’d achieved something once deemed impossible. She found a way to make Deadpool even more awesome.

“Fuck yeah,” Wendy said in her orgasmic daze. “Now that’s what I call maximum effort!”

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“The Gardener” A Sexy Sort Story

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The following is a sexy short story entitled “The Gardener.” Now that it’s spring and people are starting to do yard work again, I felt inspired to put a sexy spin on it. Personally, I’m not big on gardening, but I can easily see it having a certain kind of sex appeal. That’s what this story celebrates. Enjoy!

“Don’t forget to clean the upstairs bathroom!” yelled an impatient voice from downstairs. “Just because you’re home for the week doesn’t mean I’m cleaning your soap scum!”

“Yes, mother,” replied an annoyed Heather Ryan.

“And be sure to vacuum your bedroom while you’re at it!” she added. “You father and I worked hard to keep your old room organized. Don’t make us do it again!”

Heather felt like banging her head on the nearest brick wall. It was her first day home from college – the first day of spring break, no less – and already she longed for another mid-term. It was hard enough with most of her friends were taking trips to the beach or camping upstate. Being stuck at home made it feel less like a vacation and more like a chore.

“Chores,” Heather groaned, “they never end because things always get dirty.”

Slumping down in her chair at the desk next to her bed, she was already dreading the rest of her week. She’d arrived home from college late last night, carrying two large suitcases of dirty clothes, one of which got soaked because it had been raining. Her parents were glad to see her for about five minutes before they started giving her crap for tracking mud into the foyer.

She should’ve been used to it, by now. Since she was a kid, her parents had been neat freaks. She and her two younger siblings, Kevin and Joan, learned from an early age that cleanliness was a priority in their house. That didn’t just mean cleaning up after themselves. That meant doing the necessary chores and doing them on time. Failure to do so would result in more chores of increasing drudgery.

It never seemed to end. She almost envied her two younger siblings, who were still in high school and got to spend a chunk of their day out of the house and away from all the chores. With her dad working late at his law firm, her mother expected her to share the workload. It promised to turn Spring Break into an extended chore.

As Heather dreaded the work her mother had in store, her gaze drifted towards the window overlooking the back yard of her parents’ two-story home. After the rain last night, the sun had come out and the warm spring air had rolled in. She wished she could appreciate it, but all it did was remind her that her friends were probably laying on the beach, working on a tan.

“I miss winter already,” Heather said to herself. “At that way, my mom wouldn’t try to stick me with yard work. I’m almost afraid to go outside.”

She sighed to herself and got up to close the blinds, if only to help her fight the temptation. Then, just over the fence and into her neighbor’s yard, something caught her eye that tempted her in a very different way.

“Oh my sweet Lord,” she gasped. “I’m officially unafraid.”

Suddenly, Heather was grateful for the warm spring weather. Out in the backyard of her neighbors, she saw a very handsome, very shirtless young man working in a garden. He was tall, tanned, and well-muscled. He definitely worked outside often and, if the way he handled that shovel were any indication, he was very comfortable working on a hot spring day. However, his muscles and his stature were not his most attractive features.

The man was so unkempt and disheveled. He had messy, mid-length hair that no barber had touched in at least a year. He had a grizzled, unshaven face that hadn’t felt a razor blade in at least a month. Heather swore she could smell the sweat and the dirt on his flesh through her window. It was enough to trigger a little spring-time heat-wave between her legs.

“It’s half-past-ten and he’s already hard at work,” Heather mused, “hard, dirty work.”

She said that in the tone of a woman who hadn’t had sex since she broke up with her boyfriend eight months ago. In that time, she’d been on a handful of dates that ended uneventfully or in disaster. It made for a lot of lonely nights, especially during the winter and whenever her roommate snuck over to her boyfriend’s dorm.

However, the memory of those nights quickly faded as she watched the man work. He was shoveling a large pile of mulch into a sizable garden in the corner of the back yard. There were already several large plants in place so he must have already done the dirtiest work, getting on his knees and really sifting through the mud. Just picturing him doing that made her panties feel moist.

It was at that moment when Heather remembered that the neighbors she had in the fall had moved out shortly before she left for college. She also recalled that the house next door had been for sale when she came home for the holidays. That meant the handsome young man had come with her new neighbors and she hadn’t been around to introduce herself.

Suddenly, she had an excuse to go outside and risk her mother sticking her with more chores. The more she watched the handsome man work, the more willing she felt to take that chance.

“A handsome, hard-working new neighbor,” Heather said, not even trying to hide the sexual undertones in her voice. “I might as well go introduce myself.”

With a mischievous grin, she got up from her desk, put on a pair of sandals, and rushed downstairs, avoiding her mother, who was busy in the basement. She didn’t bother changing out of the denim shorts and tank top she’d worn yesterday. For once, she wasn’t going to worry about being clean and presentable, like her parents always told her. For a stranger, who happened to be a handsome man, Heather sought to present herself in a different way.

As soon as she stepped outside, the hot, muggy spring air hit her on all sides. Heather could already hear her parents yelling at her to take off her sandals, keep the doors closed, and shower before dinner. She shut all that out, focusing only on the handsome, disheveled man next door.

The heat and humidity must have already gotten to her because she didn’t bother just peaking over the fence, admiring the handsome man from afar. She was a young, single college woman who had to endure a week at home with her uptight parents. She was not going to waste an opportunity like this.

“Someone’s getting an early start this morning,” Heather greeted as she casually walked along the short wooden fence. “Is this how you start every Monday morning, stranger?”

The man, apparently caught off guard by her presence, almost dropped the shovel as he turned around. Up close, she could already see dirt and mud stains on his jeans. That only made him hotter in your eyes.

“Uh…good morning to you too, ma’am,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

“You’re right. We haven’t and that’s just rude of me,” Heather said playfully. “I’m Heather, the rowdy college girl that my parents probably didn’t mention when they introduced themselves.”

“You’re part of the Ryan family?” he said, sounding intrigued. “Funny, they did mention having an older daughter in college. I don’t remember them saying much about her…or about how rowdy she was.”

“Trust me, that part was implied.”

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

The handsome man smiled at her and she smiled back. He seemed intrigued. That was a promising sign. Most girls her age didn’t admit to being rowdy. That usually evoked too many dirty thoughts in young, straight men. Heather dared to be unusual. It helped that she actually wanted him to think those thoughts.

Setting aside the shovel, he walked up to her and leaned on the fence. As he got closer, Heather sweat on his body made him glow under the morning sun. His messy hair, his messy beard, and even the hair on his chest radiated a thick, sweaty musk. Her parents would’ve been aghast at such a smell. Heather found it utterly intoxicating.

“The name’s Mark,” he said to her, “the youngest, but most experience member of the Truman family clan.”

“Experienced, huh?” Heather said, leaning over the fence with a flirtatious glance. “That how you describe your gardening skill?”

“I like to think I’ve got more skills than that, but I guess this is counts as one of them.”

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty, but this one really shows. The last set of neighbors let most of their backyard turn into a mud pit.”

“Yeah, my folks and I noticed that too. We knew this place needed a lot of work when we moved in. Lucky for us, we ain’t afraid to work. My dad’s a mechanic and my mom is a vet. We know the value of getting our hands dirty.”

“Dirty indeed,” said Heather.

She might have been too flirtatious with that remark. Mark almost seemed amused, but didn’t mind when she got a little closer, giving her another whiff of the distinct odor that could only come from a hard-working man. It was dirty, but so strong. If she hadn’t been leaning on the fence, she doubted her legs would’ve supported her.

“Well, it’s good to finally meet you,” said Mark before the silence got too awkward. “You home for the week or something?”

“Yep!” Heather affirmed. “I’m on Spring Break. Most of my friends are off on vacation or at the beach. I’m stuck at home the entire time.”

“Funny, you don’t sound too upset about that.”

“Believe me, I was…until a few minutes ago when I saw you.”

“You don’t say?” he said with even more intrigue. “Well, I’m glad I could make your break a little better. I’m also glad I finally met someone my own age in this neighborhood. Seems like the only people in this neighborhood are young kids or grumpy adults.”

“Guess we’re somewhat even,” said Heather. “You’ll find plenty of people our age around here, but in a neighborhood like this, you won’t find many who will get their hands dirty…not if they have the money to pay other people to do it.”

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I work in my dad’s garage and clean up after my mom’s dogs. I’m dirty 90 percent of the time. Think that’s gonna cause problems?”

“With some people, it may. With others…well, they might prefer you stay as dirty as you damn well please.”

Hoping her flirtatious undertone had gotten her point across, Heather decided to take another risk. She reached over and lightly trailed her fingers up his arms, feeling the sweat and grime from all the dirt along the way. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the smile on his face widened. It was as though no one had ever appreciated his willingness to get dirty.

Now standing so close, able to feel the heat from his body over that of the morning son, she leaned in a little closer. Mark leaned in as well, his gaze on her become more focused. All the effort and toil must have really got his blood flowing because she could feel him undressing her with his eyes. In the muggy spring heat, she didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Ms. Ryan,” said Mark, again avoiding too awkward a silence.

“Heather,” she said. “We’re not a dinner party or a ball. You can call me Heather.”

“Okay, Heather,” he said. “I’m still new in town and I left a lot of stuff behind up state.”

“By chance, was one of those things a girlfriend?”

“As a matter of fact…yeah, that was a big thing,” he said. “In fact, it was bigger than I thought it would be…coming to a new town, starting over, and not having anyone besides my folks to help me adjust. I guess you could say busting my butt in a garage, a garden, or anywhere else I can get my hands dirty is how I’ve been coping.”

“That’s sad, but noble as hell,” Heather said. “There are way worse ways a handsome young guy like you could handle himself in a new town.”

“I like to think I’ve done things the right way so far.”

With every word he said, Mark Truman just kept getting sexier and sexier. Not only did he get his hands dirty, but he was a genuinely good guy who had to deal with the decisions his parents made for him. A man like that didn’t deserve to be alone when adjusting to a new neighborhood.

At the same time, she needed a man like that…one who was good, but still embodied had traits completely unlike her parents or the rest of the neighborhood. He was unlike any of the other men she’d dated or been around. He might not recoil at the idea of sticking his hands in the mud. That made Heather certain of her desires. She was going to hook up with this man.

“Well, Mr. Truman – or Mark, if that’s what you want me to call you,” she said in an outright seductive tone, “if you’re looking for another way to cope, I think I could help.”

“That’s mighty generous of you,” Mark said, his grin widening even more.

“It might be a little more wrong than right, depending on your point of view,” she added, “but if you’re willing to get just a little dirtier with a girl who may or may not have a thing for that…”

She let her words trail off so that Mark could fill in the blanks. Looking to guide him, she playfully trailed her finger up his arms, over the sinews of his biceps, and onto his exposed chest, not minding the sweat or dirt for a second. She must have come off as overly eager, a horny young woman who just needed a good humping. That could either completely dissuade him or seal the deal.

He seemed inclined towards the latter, his gaze narrowing on her as she lightly pawed his chest. From there, it didn’t take long for him to fill in the blanks. Leaning in closer, so much so that she could feel his hot breath on her face, he reached up and caressed her face with his dirty hands. His touch set her inner thighs ablaze, making her even more eager to get dirty with him.

“I never shy away from dirty work,” Mark said to her, “especially when it involves a pretty girl.”

“Then, I’ll skip the part where I ask how comfortable you are around girls like me,” said Heather, “and I’ll just ask where the nearest private space is.”

“Well…depending on how dirty you’re willing to get, the shed is closer than the garage.”

“Oh trust me, I’m that willing!”

To assure him there were no doubts in her mind, Heather kissed him hard on the lips. She didn’t care that his face was unshaven or that his hair was greasy. If anything, that turned her on even more, prompting her to put a little tongue into it. That sent a clear message. She wanted him. She wanted to be taken by a dirty, sweaty man in a dirty, confined shed.

Mark got that message loud and clear. He eagerly kissed back, wrapping his powerful arms around her and pulling her closer to his body. She already could feel he wanted her too, the hard work making him deserving of a fitting reward. Heather wanted to be that reward…the kind that made the dirt, sweat, and toil feel worth it.

“Mark…take me,” she gasped in between the kisses.

Before he could even respond, Heather scaled the waist-high fence, not leaving his arms for a second in the process. Once over, he caught her and pulled her into a deeper embrace. Almost immediately, Heather felt his sweat stain her shirt. That didn’t bother her in the slightest, though. That just gave her all the more incentive to get them off.

“The shed…that way,” Mark said.

“Lead the way!” Heather eagerly replied.

Already drunk on his touch and his sweaty musk, she pounced on him, jumping up into his grasp and throwing her legs around her waist. She even lost her sandals in the process, but she didn’t care. She was in Mark’s arms, eager to follow his desires as well as her own.

With the same strength he’d used to tend his garden, Mark held her up by her butt and carried her over to the shed that was adjacent to the garden. They kissed every step of the way, their tongues aggressively entwined with lust. Upon entering, he closed the door behind them, leaving them in a dirty, confined, poorly lit space. From her point of view, it was the hottest setting they could’ve been in.

“Off! Get it off!” Heather said desperately, already trying to remove her shirt.

Mark set her on a work bench in the corner of the shed, covered in dust and littered with rusty tools. The ambience just kept getting hotter by the second.

Once in place, their lips briefly parted so she could remove her shirt up over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra so she made sure Mark got a good look at her exposed breasts. He clearly liked what he saw and hungrily grasped them with both hands.

“Nice tits,” he said in a lecherous tone.

“Go on. Touch them with your dirty hands,” Heather said, emphasizing the dirty part.

As Mark fondled her breasts, she skillfully undid her denim shorts and took them off, panties and all. Now fully nude, she felt the heat, grime, and humidity on her exposed flesh. By her parents’ rigid standards, she was filthy. Instead of feeling wrong, though, it felt so right…right and sexy.

Mark, showing more excitement in the presence of a naked woman, smothered her with his lustful touch. As he felt over her breasts, hips, and butt, he kissed her again, the raw hunger in his every touch hinting at a growing desire. Heather sought to match that hunger every step of the way, throwing in some intimate touching of her own, which eventually led her to the growing bulge in his pants.

“Pants…off,” she managed to get out in between wrestling tongues.

He couldn’t comply fast enough, undoing his belt buckle and kicking off his boots. Heather did the rest, undoing his jeans and pushing them down, along with his underwear to reveal a semi-erect cock. Like the rest of his body, it looked so strong and rugged, emanating an intensely masculine aura. Heather wanted nothing more than to have it inside her.

She made that desire clear, reaching out and grasping it with both hands as they continued kissing. Mark let out a deep moan, her touch inspiring even more lust. Before long, his dick was fully erect, the air around them ablaze with shared desire. It was already a hot, muggy spring day. Together, they were going to make it hotter.

“Heather…you ready?” he said, already breathless as their lips party.

“Ready to get hot, sweaty, and dirty as hell!” Heather told him.

Grinning at her choice of words, Mark shifted those filthy hands of his down to her hips, pulling her forward so that she sat on the edge of the work bench. As he positioned himself closer, she hooked her legs around his waist and grabbed onto his shoulders. Then, once his manly flesh was aligned with her hot opening, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ohhh yes!” Heather cried out. “Give it to me, Mark. Give me that dirty cock!”

Mark responded with a determined grunt, not unlike the one she’d heard earlier while he was shoveling mulch. With the same grit that he’d shown with his garden, he fucked her. He did it with raw strength and power, rocking her body with every movement. It forced her to cling harder to his shoulders, gasping every time she his member probed her deepest depths.

With each labored motion, a sharp surge of sensations followed. The heat, the sweat, and the desire morphed into pleasure…raw, unfiltered pleasure. It unleashed in Heather a kind of pent up energy that she didn’t know she had.

“Yes! Oh yes!” she exclaimed. “Mark…so strong…so dirty. Ooh I love it!”

“Ohhh Heather!” Mark moaned.

Their sex took on a distinctly messy rhythm, which felt all too appropriate. They were doing it on a dirty table within a dirty shed on a hot, sticky day in spring. Everything about it defied the conventions of cleanliness that had been instilled in Heather since birth. Somehow, that made for the hottest sex she’d ever had.

Through the intense exertion, she worked up a sweat of her own. Before long, her naked skin glistened with the same dirty glow as Mark. Her sweat soon mixed with his, allowing their bodies to glide and slither together more effortlessly. His hands more wildly roamed all over her body, feeling her up from her thighs to her breasts to her face. She did the same, raking her nails over his back and trailing her fingers over the manly sinews of his upper body.

She fueled his intense desire just as much as he fueled hers. There was nothing careful or reserved about it. She was just as willing to put in the work in pursuit of a greater reward. During that pursuit, their bodies shifted chaotically in the heat of their vigorous sex. At one point, she hitched both legs up over his shoulders so he could fuck her at a different angle. At another, he held her up in his arms and bounced her along his cock.

Eventually, Heather found herself bent over the work bench, her breasts and face pressed up against the dusty wood as Mark fucked her from behind. She was almost at her peak, holding onto the sides of the table for dear life. Mark was close too. She could tell by how each movement got more steady and targeted. If they were going to share in the work, then they might as well share in its fruits.

“Mark…I’m close. I’m so…so close!” Heather moaned.

“Me too, Heather! Just a little…bit longer!” he said in between grunts.

The next few moments were a test of endurance, albeit in the best possible way. Heather closed her eyes, focusing on the heat, scent, and grime around her. It was all associated with one man…the strong, hard-working man having sex with her. Together, they got dirty in the most rewarding way possible.

Finally, after a few more labored thrusts, Mark sent her over the edge. In an instant, the heat around her turned into a seas of ecstasy in which she became fully immersed. Throwing her head back, Heather let out a cry that reverberated throughout the confined shed. Intense, throbbing sensations of pleasure surged through her like an erupting volcano. It effectively completed the hard, dirty work.

Her orgasmic bliss soon became Mark’s. As her pussy throbbed around his rigid cock, he crossed that threshold as well, letting out a deep moan that complemented her blissful cries perfectly. She could actually feel his manhood tensing within her as it released its seminal load inside her. It was so raw and dirty, which made her love it even more.

“Heather…so hot,” Mark said breathlessly.

“Mark…so dirty,” she replied.

Their ability to form words failed them. That didn’t stop her from rising up from the dirty table and turning her head so he could kiss her again. That told him everything she wanted to say and then some.

For a moment, they just lingered in one another’s naked, sweaty embrace. Eventually, his body parted from hers, but they remained in each other’s arms, still immersed in the muggy ambience of their grasp.

“I’m starting to think I’ll like it here in this neighborhood,” Mark said as he affectionately caressed the side of her back.

“And I’m starting to think my Spring Break won’t suck anymore,” Heather said.

They each laughed and shared another playful kiss, not caring for a second as their sweat, grime, and various bodily fluids continued to mix. There was something liberating about it and it wasn’t just a byproduct of the afterglow either.

Heather had lived much of her life in a world where so many things had to be clean. Hard, gritty work was somehow unappealing and to be avoided at all costs. By getting dirty with Mark – literally and figuratively, no less – she discovered that there was value to that work. It didn’t just turn her on. It inspired real passion…a kind that only a uniquely special men could appreciate.

Whatever else Spring Break had in store for her, she was already convinced that Mark was just that special.

“You know, at some point we’re still going to have to get cleaned up,” Mark reminded her.

“I know,” said Heather curtly while running her hand through his greasy hair. “That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy being dirty a little longer.”

“Well, I guess it helps when you’ve got someone to share it with.”

“Definitely!” she said with a beaming grin. “After all, how can you appreciate being clean if you don’t let yourself get a little dirty once in a while?”

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“Before The Prom” A Sexy Short Story

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The following a short story called “Before The Prom.” With prom season just around the corner and all the raging hormones that come with it, I felt inspired to craft a steamy little story to get everyone in the spirit, so to speak. Enjoy!

“How about another smile the happy couple?” said Rod Richter’s enthusiastic mother.

“Promise this is the last one?” said Rod. “My jaw muscles can only take so much.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Sherry Hopkins, his girlfriend and prom date. “You smile more when Coach Whitman cancels track practice.”

“You’re not helping, Sherry,” he said while still smiling for the camera.

It was a momentous, but tedious moment, at least for parents. Rod was about to go to his senior prom. Finals were over. College applications had been submitted and acceptance letters had been received. The hardest, most stressful parts of high school were almost over. He and everyone else at Grovesberg High School had earned one night of fun and partying.

Despite the annoyance he felt from his parents’ wanting a picture from every possible angle, he still smiled and held his girlfriend close. He and Sherry had already been through this with her parents when he picked her up. He barely had any time to admire the beautiful black dress she’d bought or the fresh highlights she’d put in her hair. Both their parents still tried to make it about them.

“Don’t worry. The wait will be worth it,” she’d told him.

 “I sure hope so,” Rod replied.

“I know so. I promise!”

She sounded so certain. Then again, Sherry had always been the confident, self-assured type. That was part of what attracted him to her. She was actually the friend of a friend of his older sister, Dina. They’d crossed path a few times during their junior year. Then, right around the holidays during a big get-together with his sister’s friends, they found each other. Everything after that had been textbook teenage puppy love.

However, Rod hoped to push their relationship to the next level. Tonight was their senior prom, the last hurrah before they finalized their college plans. What happened tonight might very well decide whether they go their separate ways or see if they could be something more.

Looking at Sherry as the flash from his mother’s phone went off, he still wasn’t sure whether how deep his feelings went for her. When she looked at him with those intense, yet passionate eyes, it made him shudder in the best possible way. He smiled back at her, holding her a little closer and feeling that tone, fit body that had made her a track star last spring. He hoped to know that body more intimately before the night was over.

First, though, he had to escape his parents’ scrutiny. With the sun having just set, his mother finally relented.

“That’s the last one,” his mother said.

“You sure this time?” Rod asked half-jokingly.

“Positive!” she affirmed. “It’s time. You’re free to go, my youngest son.”

“You’re not going to get dramatic on me, are you? We already got that with Sherry’s mom.”

“And I’m not even the youngest,” Sherry added.

“I’m trying not to, but I can’t help it. My baby’s off to his senior prom and I can’t keep calling him a baby much longer.”

Rod rolled his eyes, but hugged his mother anyway, which earned him a look of approval from Sherry. She’d gone through the same thing with her mother, struggling to process the idea that her teenage kid wasn’t a kid anymore. She got over it enough to let them leave. Now, it was her mother’s turn.

After an extended hug, Rod rejoined Sherry and made their way to his car, which he had washed, gassed up, and ready for an eventful night. His dad had even put a prom poster on the back just under the rear window. He didn’t get as emotional as his mother, but the two beers he’d drank hinted that he felt it too.

“Have a great time, you two,” his father said.

“We will, Mr. Richter!” Sherry said as she excitedly clang to his arm.

“And son…be careful,” his father added.

“I will, dad,” Rod said as he waved goodbye.

“I mean it, Roddy. Be careful,” he said, this time with a suggestive subtext.

Rod bit his lip and faked a smile. He even noticed a snicker from Sherry. She’d picked up on it too. He wished she hadn’t, but it was hard to ignore, even from his parents.

While his mother seemed perfectly content ignoring the implications, his father had already given him the proverbial talk. He said he’d been young once too. He knew what happened between couples at the prom. Rod didn’t ask for details, but he got them anyway and had been trying to forget them ever since.

He opted not to dwell on them and focus on Sherry, who didn’t seem to hold his father’s comments against him. She kept on smiling, even as he opened the passenger door to his car and let her in like a true gentleman. He waved goodbye to his parents one last time, ignoring eye contact with his dad, before finally driving off towards the Maple Resort Hotel where the prom was being held.

“That…was more intense than I thought,” said Rod, shortly after they pulled away.

“Were you expecting them to not care that their handsome son is going to prom with a beautiful girl in a $400 dress?”

“That would’ve been easier,” he joked.

“But it would’ve undercut the importance of this night,” she said, “and I know as well as you just how important it is.”

There was a subtext in her tone as well, but it wasn’t nearly as lurid as his father’s had been. Sherry might have been a fun-loving, energetic girl, but she could be serious when necessary. In fact, it was when she was serious that he saw her most attractive traits.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks,” Sherry said to him as he drove. “We laid out everything we wanted to go right and agreed on the things we didn’t want to screw up. We went in on a hotel suite, got intel on the chaperones, and even made plans in case Mike and Joel tried to pull another one of their pranks.”

“I’m pretty sure I threatened them and their ancestors to restrain themselves, this time,” said Rod. “I sure as hell hope they got the message.”

“Beyond just having a good time, we also made more intimate plans. Since your father made it so awkward for us and my dad could barely make eye-contact, I won’t say those plans out loud.”

Rod gripped the wheel tighter as memories of that conversation came rushing back. He hadn’t made it a secret, how much he wanted her. She sent some pretty clear signals as well. In fact, the night they first got together, she let him feel her up when she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Sherry was not at all shy about sharing herself with others.

However, as fun as that moment had been, it was as far as they went and for good reason. Sherry wasn’t a virgin. He’d known that before they started dating. He also knew that her first time hadn’t been very memorable. She said it wasn’t painful or anything, but for all the expectations she’d had with her first boyfriend, it really fell short.

“I thought I did everything I had to do to make my first time great. Turns out, I overdid it,” she’d told him.

Rod understood, more so than he wish he did. His first time hadn’t been that memorable, either. His last girlfriend, Connie Bridges, was a sweet girl with a great personality, but she was a real micromanager when it came to certain aspects of her life. That included sex.

He could laugh to himself about it now, but it was not very funny or sexy at the time. She tried to dictate every position and movement, as though she somehow knew what good sex was. Being so nervous and so horny, it was more nerve-racking than enjoyable. He barely remembered getting off, let alone feeling that intimate. Connie still acted as though they’d done everything right, which contributed to their eventual breakup.

Rod didn’t want that with Sherry. Looking over at her as the car stopped at a traffic signal, he saw a young woman who cared about his desires too. She didn’t mind kissing, hugging, and sharing dirty texts in the middle of the night. She let him express certain feelings that he couldn’t express with anyone else. She’d been so good to him, which was a big reason why he didn’t complain when she said she wanted to hold off on getting sexual.

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best,” he’d said. “Better to wait for the right time than mess up what we have.”

Rod said those words to her barely a week after they’d gotten together. At the time, he didn’t know if Sherry would just be a quick fling or something serious. Now, she was his senior prom date. He didn’t know how much more serious they could get.

“I still want to see those plans through,” Rod said to her as he waited for the light to turn green, “including the intimate ones.”

“Me too,” said Sherry, leaning over and clinging to his arm. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about it…among other things.”

“Same here,” he admitted, “and believe me, thinking only goes so far.”

“You’ve got an internet connection and a Playboy poster in your bedroom, Rod. I never assumed you’d live the life of a monk while we made these plans.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a bemused grin, “but those plans still have merit. You didn’t hide how disappointing your first time was. I didn’t hide the dirty details of mine either.”

“To be fair, yours weren’t that dirty,” she teased. “Connie just found a way to make a sexy moment dull, which is a hell of an accomplishment.”

“And one I don’t care to repeat,” Rod went on. “I care about you, Sherry. I really do. I’ve also seen my friends – and even some of yours, mind you – screw their personal lives with sex.”

“You don’t have to name names. I know who you’re talking about.”

“They don’t plan it out. They don’t talk about it. They just act and think that’s all there is to it. Then, they’re still surprised when they’re disappointed.”

“And you don’t want that for us,” she said in a more serious tone.

“Hell no!” he said without hesitation. “If we’re gonna do it, let’s at least make it a strength and not a complication. That’s why we made these all these plans in the first place…to see if sex can show us just how good we can be together, beyond the prom.”

There was a brief silence. For a moment, Rod thought he’d said too much. Much to his relief, though, Sherry just smiled back and gave him an affectionate kiss.

“Oh Rod…that might be the sweetest thing a horny guy has ever said to me,” said Sherry.

“Uh…you’re welcome,” he said, now blushing profusely.

Rod got a little more serious than he’d intended. He wasn’t usually the type to get that personal, even with his girlfriend. Since it was prom night, he made an exception and Sherry seemed to appreciate. The way she clung to his arm made his heart race with anticipation on what the night held.

He probably would’ve kept going with his personal ramblings, but thankfully, the light turned green and they drove on. Sherry remained close. He still felt her penetrating gaze on him, which made the air around him feel several degrees hotter. For an anxious teenage guy in a rented tuxedo, that was not a pleasant feeling, but he endured. Sherry was worth it.

After driving down the North Valley Parkway for a couple miles, he turned onto one of the back roads that he often used to cut through to the downtown area. It was heavily wooded and near a golf course that had been closed for renovations for the past several months. Other than parking lots and gated areas, it was probably the quietest place in the county.

There wasn’t much traffic and cutting through meant getting to the hotel earlier and ahead of their friends. If they were going to get to those intimate plans, then they might as well get a head start. The more Rod thought about it, the more he wanted to see them through. Being so close to Sherry, that beautiful black dress hugging her body, really tested his hormones and his patience.

“Hey Rod,” said Sherry, “can I ask you one thing before we get too deep into plans and prom spirits?”

“Of course,” Rod said without hesitation, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Say we make all these plans and follow them to the letter,” she said. “We do everything we set out to do, right down to the sexy stuff. If, after all that, it ends up being this amazing, passionate, and deeply satisfying experience…would that make us the kind of couple who don’t forget each other as soon as we graduate?”

“If it’s that good?” he said with a laugh. “Hell, that wouldn’t just make us that couple. That would make this the greatest prom of all time.”

He made it sound so logical and it was. If their plans worked out and they had the kind of sex they both wanted, then Rod could easily see himself being with Sherry beyond this night, high school, and maybe even beyond that. The way he saw it, if two horny teenagers could find a way to enjoy sex after the disappointing first times they had, then that was a sign that they had something special.

Logic or not, Rod soon sensed a shift in Sherry’s demeanor. Her penetrating gaze narrowed on him. A strange smile formed on her face. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but tried to keep his eyes on the road.

Then, just as they neared a particularly sharp turn, Sherry reached over, grabbed his thigh, and leaned in.

“Rod, there’s an empty parking lot just up ahead. Pull into it,” she said to him in the deepest, sexiest voice he’d ever heard outside a computer screen.

“Uh…what?” said Rod, almost losing control of the steering wheel.

“You heard what I said. Pull over. Find some place quiet and private. I want to skip a few parts of our plan.”

His heart rate spiked. His entire body broke out into a sudden sweat, making his tux feeling unbearably itchy. For a second, he thought he was fantasizing…that he’d just imagined Sherry telling the more impulsive parts of his brain just what he wanted to hear. When he felt her hand grip his thigh, causing his pants to tighten almost immediately, he was convinced. This was real.

“Sherry…” Rod began, his brain and his hormones now locked in conflict.

“I know what I said, Rod,” she said, stopping him before he could overthink. “I want to do it. I want you to pull over and have sex with me in this car…on prom night…before we even get to the prom.”

Rod opened his mouth to respond. Then, Sherry trailed her hand up his thigh and over the front of his pants where a bulge was already forming. As soon as he felt her touch, that sealed the choice for him.

“Fuck it,” he said, “if you’re sure you want this…”

“I’m sure,” Sherry said before he could finish.

“Then, I want it too. God, I want it even more than I thought.”

Before he could overthink the situation, he pumped the breaks on his car and pulled into the dirt road that led to the parking lot near the top of a hill, causing the tires to skid and the transmission to screech. It was a bumpy ride, but that did little to dissuade him or Sherry. If anything, it excited him.

The parking lot was small and heavily screened by trees. It was where the golf carts were usually stored when the course was in operation. Since the renovations began, it had been a just a storage area lined with metal trailers and large dumpsters. In terms of privacy and isolation, it was perfect.

“Over there!” Sherry said, pointing out a secluded space near a storage trailer.

“I see it,” said Rod, gripping the steering wheel firmly.

He couldn’t park his car fast enough, slamming on the breaks and stopping it just under an oversized oak tree. He didn’t care that it was crooked. He just needed to get his girlfriend in the back seat and out of these itchy prom clothes.

Before he even turned the engine off, Sherry had undone her seatbelt and began crawling into the back seat. In the process, Rod got a peak of her underwear. He swore he could smell the arousal between her thighs through the muggy spring air. It was more than enough to send his hormones and his desires into overdrive.

“We’re really going to do it. Sherry and I are going to have sex.”

That thought kept playing out in his mind, overwriting all others as he turned off the engine and joined his girlfriend in the back seat. While they’d both planned this, Rod didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. The way he saw it, they weren’t throwing out the plan. They were just rearranging it.

“Hurry up, Rod!” she urged him as he stumbled into the back. “Don’t make me wait a second longer than I have to!”

“You won’t,” Rod said with more confidence than he’d had at any point in his life.

As he sought her intimate grasp, Rod kicked his loafers off and threw off his jacket. Sherry kicked off her shoes as well and was already unzipping the back part of her dress. Before they could get too ahead of themselves, though, he took her in his arms around her and kissed her. That sweet, romantic kiss he thought he’d save for their last dance of the night…it became an afterthought as his entire world now revolved around making love to Sherry.

“Mmm…Rod,” said Sherry, eagerly kissing back.

“Sherry,” Rod gasped upon tasting her lips.

It was so sweet and not just because of the expensive lipstick she wore. Kissing Sherry had always had a special feel to it, more so now than ever. He wasn’t just going to savor it. He was going to let it guide him into giving his girl the kind of sex she deserved.

The kissing, along with the embrace, quickly turned into a fervent make-out session. He and Sherry had enjoyed many such sessions, but none so heated. He could already feel the air in the car getting hotter as their lips twirled and their hands hungrily roamed. Sherry had already hitched her legs around his waist, grasping at his neck while he trailed his hand up her waist.

He could feel in her more than just arousal. There was a desire in her touch…a sincere, genuine desire that went beyond the basic need for sex.

“She wants me as much as I want her. God help me, I want to give her everything she deserves.”

Fueled by this desire, more clothes came off. Sherry made quick work of the bow-tie that took him five tries to get right before rapidly undoing the buttons to his dress shirt. Rod kept up, reaching behind and unzipping her dress the rest of the way. Once his shirt had been undone and her dress sufficiently loosened, they broke the embrace.

“Off! Get them off!” Sherry said with growing urgency.

He didn’t need that much incentive, but he took it anyway. While out of his girlfriend’s embrace, he practically threw off his dress shirt and the undershirt as well. Sherry did the same, pushing her dress down her body and tossing it over the passenger’s seat.

The first thing Rod noticed after that was that Sherry hadn’t been wearing a bra. She now wore only a pair of black lace panties, matching the style of her dress. While he had seen her breasts before, and even touched them, such a sexy sight sent him into a daze.

“That dress…didn’t do justice to your tits,” Rod said in a goofy tone.

“Stop staring and get those pants off, handsome!” Sherry said.

As eager and horny as Rod felt, that proved easier said than done. Moving around in the confined space was difficult, but Sherry made it easier. While he tried to stand up to undo his belt, Sherry reached over and did most of the work, undoing the zipper and pulling the neatly-pressed slacks down his legs along with his boxers.

By the time his dick popped free from its confines, it was already semi-hard and growing harder by the second. As soon as Sherry saw it, her face lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“Ooh Rod!” she said seductively. “Those pants didn’t do justice to your dick.”

“Very funny…and sexy, too,” Rod teased upon kicking off his pants. “Now, lay back and get those panties off!”

Mirroring the same urgent tone she’d used on him, Sherry did so without hesitation. Leaning back so that her head rested on the side door, she gave herself room to lift her hips and slide her panties down her thighs. Around halfway, Rod grabbed them and pulled them off, leaving his girlfriend and his prom date completely naked.

“Sherry…you’re so beautiful,” he said in a horny daze.

“And you’re so strong,” Sherry said with lust in her eyes, “so willing to work with me and be with me.”

“Worth it!”

They embraced and kissed again, prompting another make-out session that quickly evolved into full-fledged foreplay. This time, their naked bodies were unobstructed and unabated, her feminine curves meshing with his manly sinews. It was much better than itchy formal-ware, the feeling of a beautiful woman’s naked skin touching his.

The way her skin felt against his was nothing short of intoxicating. He wanted more and unlike his first sexual experience with Connie, he wasn’t the least bit anxious. Already, he had worked up a light sweat. The air within the car got muggy and sticky, but he didn’t care in the slightest. He was going to make love to his girlfriend, the prom be damned.

A part of him hadn’t forgotten his plan to make it better for her than her first time. That involved really building up the feeling, caressing her naked body to get the blood flowing in all the right directions. He could already feel the moist heat building between her thighs. He had to make sure she was fully aroused before the big moment.

“Sherry…are you ready?” he asked her, already breathless.

“Yes!” she gasped eagerly. “Please, Rod…I want feel you inside me.”

That desperate, passionate look in her eyes left no room for doubt. Acting on a potent combination of desire and urgency, Rod pushed Sherry’s thighs apart and positioned himself over her. He carefully aligned his member with her wet entrance, rubbing the tip up against the outer folds. Then, with a simple thrust of his hips, he entered her.

“Ohhh my God!” they both cried out, almost at the same time.

It felt even better than he had hoped, her hot womanly flesh surrounding his rigid manhood. It was like a true melding of bodies and passions, flooding his world with so many blissful feelings. He didn’t remember the moment being this powerful with Connie. Sherry must have been that special.

“Rod…ooh I feel it!” Sherry moaned. “It feels…so good.”

As soon as Rod heard that, he knew the most critical part of their plan was complete. They wanted their sex to feel better and be more meaningful than their previous experiences. If the look on his girlfriend’s face was any indication, they had already succeeded.

“Sherry…my lover,” Rod found himself saying.

Whether out of love or lust, those words set the tone. With their flesh now entwined, passion and hormones took over.

With Sherry up against the door and him hovering over her, Rod began moving his body with hers, establishing a steady, yet focused rhythm. She let out more moans while he let out more grunts, his rigid flesh moving within her tight depths, extracting raw sensations that evoked heightened feelings. As they moved together in a sexual heat, Rod captured her lips in another kiss. The way she kissed back only made those feelings more intense.

It was the kind of intimacy that most couples only dream about on their prom night…or any night, for that matter. They hadn’t even gotten to the prom yet and already, he and Sherry were experiencing the most romantic moment they had ever experienced. It almost seemed backwards, having such a moment before they even got to the prom. Regardless, something about it just felt right.

“I like this plan better…much better!”

Sweat quickly covered their bodies. The windows of his car became foggy as the air got even muggier. Whatever hairspray she’d used or cologne he’d put on had long since washed off. All that spectacle that the prom was supposed to build gave way to real, raw passion. It sure beat the hell out of dancing to cheesy pop music.

Rod wished the feeling could’ve lasted all night. Unfortunately, basic human biology – especially those of inexperienced teenagers – made that impossible. That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy it, though. At the very least, he wanted Sherry to come before he did. That meant holding back and exercising some discipline with his lust, but it turned out he didn’t have to hold back for very long.

“Rod! Oh…ohhh Rod! I’m close…very close,” Sherry told him.

“Sherry…” was all he could get out in the heat of the moment.

He kept kissing her, stepping up the pace of his movements in the process. He already knew how she liked to be embraced. Rod used that to his full advantage as he brought his girlfriend to orgasm.

“Ohhh Rod!” she cried out as the feeling hit.

Her lower back arched and her legs tensed as she got her release. She was pretty loud in her blissful proclamation, so much so that it left his ears ringing. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, it made the moment that much more special, knowing he had giving this girl that he cared for so deeply that much ecstasy.

He was more than happy to ease up on the rhythm and let her soak in the orgasmic feeling. However, Sherry didn’t linger for long. With her body still shuddering, she captured his lips again and shifted their bodies.

“Now…it’s your turn!” Sherry told him.

Not needing much explanation, Rod let his girlfriend take it from there. He soon found himself sitting up right in the sweat, Sherry straddling his hips and riding his cock. She held onto his shoulders for leverage, shoving her breasts in his face in a blatant effort to get him to climax too. It worked like a charm.

“Ohhh fuck, Sherry! I’m gonna come! I’m gonna…come!” Rod said with labored grunts.

“All…part of…the plan!” she said in between her heated motions.

Rod held on, grasping Sherry’s hips and bracing himself for the onslaught of ecstasy. When it hit, he closed his eyes, threw his head back, and let out a deep moan as he climaxed hard. It was, by far, the most satisfying, intimate feeling he’d ever felt.

Even as he soaked in the feeling, he could sense Sherry’s affectionate gaze on him. She even stopped moving her hips, allowing him to fully enjoy his release. As his member throbbed inside her, he opened his eyes to see that powerful gaze. At that moment, Rod came to an important realization.

“This is real. What Sherry and I have…it’s really real!”

As that realization sank in, they came together in another kiss. It was softer and less heated than before, but still conveyed the same feeling. What they had just done went beyond any high school dance. He and Sherry had essentially pre-empted the spirit of the prom and captured that romantic feeling all their own.

“Sherry,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“Yes, my lover?” said Sherry. “Which I can now say unironically, mind you.”

“If I said I love you…before we even get to the prom…before we carry out the rest of our plan…would that ruin anything?”

It was the most serious question Rod had ever asked someone. The smile on Sherry’s face never waned, though. That told him all he needed to know.

“Not in the slightest,” she told him.

“That’s…a relief,” he said, still breathless, “because I do love you. What we just did…on a night like this…I’m now comfortable saying that.”

“So am I,” she said, “because I love you too, Rod. Regardless of how the rest of the prom goes…I know what I feel. And I’m ready to celebrate it!”

Rod shot her a beaming smile and kissed her again, enjoying their sweaty, naked embrace as much as possible. Eventually, they would have to get dressed again. They might even have to clean themselves up so that they didn’t look like a couple that had just had sex in the back seat of a car.

They were probably end up being late to the prom, much to the chagrin of their friends. That didn’t matter, though. As far as Rod was concerned, he and Sherry had already captured the spirit of the prom.

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“Rescued Hearts” Is Out TODAY!

rescuedhearts_9781786862631_800

Today is another milestone in my endeavor to become a successful erotica/romance writer. I’ve been looking forward to this day since late last year when I announced that Totally Entwined Group, the same publisher who published “Passion Relapse,” agreed to publish another one of my novels.

That achievement, in and of itself, was pretty big. Just getting one novel published in “Passion Relapse” was tough enough. Some may even call that a fluke. One bit of success can be attributed to luck or circumstance. Just ask Trent Dilfer. Two published novels, however, is not a fluke. It may very well be the start of a trend.

That’s why I’m so excited to announce the official release of “Rescued Hearts,” my second published novel of Totally Entwined Group. If you liked “Passion Relapse,” you’ll probably enjoy this story too. However, this is a very different kind of story. It’s still a love story. It still has plenty of sexy elements. It’s just the application of those elements that’s different.

“Rescued Hearts” is the kind of story in which two people just finding each other isn’t enough. There are obstacles that will actively hinder their ability to be together and I’m not just talking about laundry habits. The obstacles here are serious and downright dangerous.

The love and passion in this story can’t just blossom on its own. It has to be earned. That’s why I believe it’ll strike the right chords with those who appreciate love, romance, and the sexy elements that make it so special. Winter isn’t over yet, but this sexy story will help guide you through.

“Rescued Hearts”
By Jack Fisher

Have you ever fallen in love with an angel? Candy Carter has. A self-proclaimed trailer-trash princess, she seems destined to live a life of quiet deviance in Haven Hill, a dying rural town overrun by drug dealers and criminals.

Then, in her darkest hour, EMT Ryan Roth saves her life when a forest fire ravages her town. That fateful encounter doesn’t just endear him to her heart. It inspires her to leave Haven Hill and build a better life, much to the dismay of her jealous ex-fiancé, Paul Reynolds. She runs away, enrolls in college and tries to become the kind of woman who was worth saving.

But just as that life seems to be taking shape, Candy crosses paths with the man who’d been her angel, only to find out that he’s divorced and miserable. As they reconnect, old dreams transform into new passions and hope for the future for them both. However, Candy’s old life comes back to haunt her. Her angel may not be able to save her this time, or they may both lose their lives.

As always, I encourage everyone to both read the book and provide feedback. I’m always open to discussing the sexy and non-sexy elements of the story. That kind of feedback helps me become a better writer and I want to keep writing more sexy stories, be they novels or the sexy short stories I occasionally share.

I also have plenty of other sexy stories I hope to get published. I consider “Rescued Hearts” just another step in the process. I hope to share more news about future novels, be they with Totally Entwined Group or some other publisher. Until then, please take the time to enjoy this sexy tale of romance, passion, and everything in between.

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Filed under Book Announcement, Books, Pubilishing, erotica, Las Vegas, erotic fiction, romance, Crimson Frost Books