Tag Archives: erotic fiction

“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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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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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“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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Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Before The Prom” A Sexy Short Story

valentines-day-couple-kissing-photos-9

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!

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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

“Keeping You Warm” Another Sexy Short Story

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The following is another sexy short story I wrote entitled, “Keeping You Warm.” It’s a story I wrote over the course of a bitter cold day where nobody was feeling very sexy. I hope this helps warm everybody up and gets them through the winter. Enjoy!

“Hurry! Get another piece of wood,” said Maria, still shivering under several layers of clothes and blankets.

“Calm down, sweetheart. The fire’s still going strong,” David assured her. “We don’t know how long this blackout will continue so we need to conserve our wood.”

“Says the guy who wears a tank top outside when he gets the paper.”

“Who also happens to be the same guy who survived four days camping in a blizzard when he was nine,” he retorted. “Trust me, Maria. I know how to handle this.”

His words seemed to have little impact. Maria, his girlfriend of the past nine months, kept shivering and hugging herself as though she’d been trapped in the middle of the arctic. He did what he could to keep her warm, giving her the bulk of the blankets and letting her sit directly in front of the fireplace. That didn’t seem to be enough, though. David began worrying more about her than the duration of the blackout.

It had already derailed his plans for a romantic evening with his lover. Three hours ago, Maria returned from an extra-long shift at the hospital downtown where she worked as a pharmacist. He’d been waiting for her, ready to fire up the oven to cook her some salmon with a side of sweet potatoes. It was her favorite meal, one he’d hoped would make for a romantic Friday evening.

He knew that a storm was rolling in, but didn’t think much of it. Having grown up in Minnesota and endured more than his share of blizzards, he was better-equipped than most. Then, before he could even turn the oven on, the power went out and their romantic evening fell apart.

He could tell Maria wasn’t in a very romantic mood. Having spent all her life in South Florida, she was not used to this kind of cold. The fact she wore so many layers just to drive to work showed that. This marked the first major blizzard she’d endured and so far, she wasn’t handling it well.

“My God! How does anyone live through this shit?” Maria groaned. “I knew I would have to adjust when I transferred here last spring, but not like this!”

“You get used to it,” David told her while hugging her a little closer.

“Not soon enough for a Florida girl,” she said. “Hell, I didn’t even see snow for the first time until I was 22-years-old.”

“I admit the novelty wears off quickly, but eventually, you harden to it. You even come to appreciate it.”

“No offense to your home town in Connecticut, but I’d rather be wearing my bikini on South Beach right about now.”

“None taken,” he said. “If it helps, I’ll go get your bikini out of the closet and we can pretend we’re on South Beach.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Dave, but I’d rather focus on surviving. There’s only so much I can pretend in this kind of cold.”

She rubbed her hands together and shivered again. She almost sounded panicked, as though the storm and the blackout would never end. David wasn’t sure what more he could do for his lover. It was not a pleasant feeling, knowing that she was so uncomfortable and distressed.

He kept trying to warm her up, hugging her closely and occasionally stoking the fire in the fireplace that he’d kept going for several hours. It was an unfamiliar situation for the both of them and not just with respect to the weather.

David knew he was in for a challenge when he met Maria. They weren’t just from different parts of the country. They were from different walks of life. Her family was pretty affluent, growing up in the best neighborhoods in South Florida and never having to worry about snow or want. He and his family were a bit more modest, working blue-collar jobs construction sites and often braving the winter cold along the way.

He’d been the first in his family to go to college, but still worked outdoors a lot as an industrial engineer. When he met Maria through an old roommate of his last spring, there was almost instant chemistry. She fascinated him and she was drawn to his rugged, hard-working persona. If anything, their differences drew them together.

It helped their relationship progress quickly. They went from going on dates and swapping flirty texts to making love during their lunch breaks pretty quickly. He was willing to say he was falling in love with her. They hadn’t moved in together yet, but she frequently visited the townhouse he’d bought from his uncle because it was on her way home. Since they worked similar hours, he always tried to be prepared for her.

However, David hadn’t prepared for a situation like this. Having only been together for six months, it marked the first instance where everything they’d planned went to shit. Being snowed in with no power for who knew how long, it was kind of sobering having endure such a stressful situation together.

“I’m sorry, Maria,” he said to her while gazing at the fire. “Believe me when I say this is not how I wanted to spend this evening.”

“I believe you, David. And don’t apologize,” Maria told him. “I should be the one saying I’m sorry. I’ve been a pain in the ass since the power went out.”

“I want to say you don’t have to apologize either, but I suck at lying to you, so I won’t try.”

“I appreciate that,” she said dryly. “I just…I hate feeling this whiny. When I was eight and a hurricane ran through my neighborhood, we didn’t have power for three days. I remember my little brother complaining every goddamn hour, but I stayed strong. I even helped my dad clean up the yard.”

“To be fair, you can do that in a bikini too.”

“That’s not the point. What bugs me is I’ve been in tough situations before, be they blackouts, disasters, or meningitis outbreak at the hospital. I’ve always found a way to endure, adapt, and be strong. But now…in this storm and with all this cold…I feel so pathetic.”

“Why? There’s only so much you can do in a blizzard-induced blackout.”

“I know, damn it! I just feel like I’m better than this…especially when I’m with the man I love.”

David’s heart skipped a beat. For a brief instant, he forgot about the cold or the storm and looked over at his shivering lover. While Maria had told him she loved him before, it was almost always in a flirtatious, playful sort of way. This was the first time it sounded genuinely serious…that she really loved him, even in such unpleasant circumstances.

He wasn’t sure if she understood the gravity of what she’d just said. For all he knew, that was a serious symptom of the cold messing with her mind. Looking at her, though, his gut told him she meant it. That meant, for him, that he needed to do more.

With renewed focus, David came up with a new plan to show Maria just how much he loved her. Just cooking her a good meal on a Friday night wasn’t enough. Even in a darkened townhouse in the middle of a blizzard with only a finite supply of firewood, he needed to make a bold gesture. As he held his lover closer, a new plan came into place.

“You are better, Maria. You’re better than any woman I know,” he told her.

“That’s sweet of you, David,” she told him, “but that doesn’t make me any less pathetic.”

“Don’t mistake frustration for helplessness. They’re not the same thing, no matter the situation. Helpless means you’re out of options and there’s nothing more you can do. Frustration means you just need to try a bit harder than you wish you did.”

“The power is still out, the heater isn’t working, and we’ve already eaten most of what we can’t zap in a microwave. How are we not helpless?”

“Because there’s one option we haven’t tried…one I didn’t think would be appropriate, given the circumstances.”

“Oh?” Maria said curiously. “Which one is that?”

David gave her a confident, yet suggestive grin. It was usually the look he gave her when he had something surprising or enticing for her. That sort of thing usually required elaborate planning on his part. This time, however, he intended to wing it.

Without saying a word, he briefly let go of her and got up to retrieve another piece of firewood from the rack that sat next to their fireplace. He made sure to pick up a big one that would burn longer without much stoking. He needed that time for reasons that would soon become obvious to his lover.

Upon putting it on the fire and letting it burn for a moment, he turned around to face his lover. Then, in what must have seen foolish for their current situation, he stripped down to his underwear.

“David,” Maria said, confused yet intrigued, “as much as I enjoy watching you show off those manly muscles of yours, I’m still inclined to point out the danger here.”

“I know. I’m willing to risk it,” he told her, standing proudly before her in nothing but a pair of black boxers. “That’s what a man does for the woman he loves.”

Those fateful words had an impact. He saw it in her gaze. He tried to match her tone, showing that he was serious. He really did love her, so much so that he was willing to brave the cold for her. If the way her eyes were raking down his half-naked body were any indication, she got the message loud and clear.

“Stop me if my timing is off or if my idea is stupid,” he continued.

“From where I’m sitting, it’s looking less stupid by the second,” Maria said curtly.

“Then, I don’t have to be too crude when I tell you there’s a more effective way to keep you warm, Maria…a way that should show you that your worth braving any storm. Whether it’s hot, cold, snowy, or dark…I’ll be there to keep you warm.”

David spoke with more determination than he’d ever felt in his adult life. With the cold air blowing through his blacked out townhouse, he knelt down and crawled into his girlfriend’s grasp. In a gesture that showed how much she wanted his warmth, she opened up the blankets she’d clung to so desperately and welcomed him into her embrace.

Then, with only the glowing light of the fire illuminating their surroundings, he kissed her passionately on the lips, allowing the heat from his body to mix with hers. Even though she still had on multiple layers of clothing, that heat carried more meaning than that of the fire. From that meaning, David’s gesture evolved into something greater.

“David…so warm,” Maria gasped.

“I can make you warmer,” he claimed.

“I believe you,” she said. “Tell me, though…does it involve me taking off my clothes?”

“Well, if you want to maximize the effects…”

David didn’t even get to finish. He didn’t have to because Maria was already eagerly removing the multiple layers of clothes that she’d so urgently put on after the power went out. He even helped her, pulling her sweater off over her head while she got out of her sweatpants.

They remained under the blankets so it was a bit clumsy and chaotic. At one point, her undershirt got stuck and he needed to help her get it off. They ended up laughing, fumbling under the blankets until she was down to her panties. As soon as her flesh was exposed, David made it a point to take her in his embrace, his skin making contact with hers. From that touch, a special kind of warmth emerged.

“Oh David,” she purred, her hands eagerly clinging to his flesh.

He grinned at her touch, already feeling her ample breasts pressing up against his chest. He’d always enjoyed that sensation, her smooth womanly flesh pressing up against his. They’d never had this much incentive to feel each other so closely. David went to work making the most of it.

Laying her down on the carpet, the roaring fire only a few feet away, he covered their naked bodies in the thick blankets they’d borrowed from their bed. He then proceeded to kiss her again. This time, he threw in some extra touching, feeling up her womanly body and building up extra heat along the way.

He put extra passion and energy into his touching, from the way he caressed her face to the way he fondled her breasts. Maria had always enjoyed that kind of foreplay, so focused and intimate. The fact it generated real warmth was just a nice bonus.

That warmth quickly escalated, though, so much so that mere touching and kissing wasn’t enough. As David caressed his lover under the blankets, he felt a growing erection in his boxers. Given how cold it was, he hadn’t expected his efforts to be that effective. He didn’t ignore the opportunity either, letting his hardened bulge press against his lover’s inner thigh.

“Ooh! Is that another one of those effects, I’m feeling?” Maria said coyly.

“That depends,” David quipped playfully. “What would you say if I said yes?”

“I would say these panties can’t come off fast enough!”

That was all the affirmation David needed to hear. With a confident grin and burning determination, he shed his boxers and helped Maria out of her panties.

Now fully naked under the thick blankets, he renewed their passionate touching. This time, there were no obstructions. It was just her flesh and his, uncovered and exposed…relying only on one another for warmth. Something about that felt so fitting, not to mention arousing.

As their flesh touched and exchanged warmth, David felt his lover’s arousal match his. The warmth from her body became a full-fledged heat, especially between her legs. Drawn to that heat like any sane man would in such cold, he positioned herself between Maria’s lets. Again, she eagerly embraced him. Within that embrace, he entered her.

“Ohhh David!” she gasped.

“Maria…” he gasped, descending into a passionate daze.

At that moment, the act of keeping his girlfriend warm transformed into making love to her. Their bodies now entwined, David kissed her again. They began moving together, hard manly flesh meshing with hot womanly depths. It wasn’t the kind of sex they often enjoyed in their more playful moments. This was an act of passion, which just happened to conjure some much-needed warmth.

Fueled by that warmth and the passion that drove it, David made love to his girlfriend with the mindset that he was doing more than just proving his sincerity. He was keeping her warm, protecting her from the unforgiving cold. There couldn’t have been a greater incentive for a man to love his girlfriend in all the ways she deserved.

He took is time, maintaining a steady, yet passionate rhythm. Under the covers, his body shifted in accord with their shared desires, sharing deep kisses and fervent touching every step of the way. Such powerful efforts were so effective that David swore they worked up a sweat. That alone was an accomplishment, but hearing his lover moan in gleeful ecstasy was a far greater reward.

“David…I love you,” she said in the midst of such passion.

“I love you too,” he said to her without hesitation.

There was no ambiguity. Given the circumstances of their situation, it felt so real. If he and Maria could profess their love in the middle of a storm when all their elaborate plans had collapsed, then there could be no further doubt. He loved her and she loved him back.

He and Maria made love for as long as their desperate bodies allowed. On more than one occasions, he heard Maria cry out with that special euphoric moan, hinting that she had achieved that special peak. He shared in the ecstasy, eventually reaching his as well. By then, they were both fairly spent, having put so much energy and effort into creating the warmth that would protect them from the cold, among other things.

Even after the lovemaking stopped, they remained curled up in each other’s arms, sharing both warmth and passion. Maria wasn’t shivering anymore, even as the fire in the fireplace waned in intensity. That assured him that his efforts had worked. He had kept his lover warm, just as he’d promised.

He was content to lay naked with her under the blankets for the rest of the night, keeping each other warm until the sun rose. Then, after what must have been fate’s idea of a joke, the power came back on. While it came as a relief, it was still somewhat jarring and neither of them were ready for the moment to end.

“Hey David?” said Maria, still curled up next to him.

“Yes, darling?” he said with a loving grin.

“Mind turning the lights off while I put another log on the fire?”

“Way ahead of you!”

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“The New Neighbor” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a short, but sexy story that I wrote. My last short sexy story did surprisingly well so I’m going to see if I can make this a regular thing on this blog. If you enjoy this kind of content, please let me know. If you have any sexy suggestions for future short stories, please let me know as well. I’d love to hear those ideas.

For now, here’s another sexy short story that was inspired by my recent move. Enjoy!

“Wake up, little sister!” said an annoying, condescending voice that could’ve roused a corpse. “It’s after seven and you’re officially late.”

“Ugh! Damn it, Ray. It’s Saturday,” groaned Sarah Jones as she held a pillow over her head to block out the morning sun.

“I don’t care. I’ve got work. You’ve got errands. So long as you’re living in your generous, loving sister’s condo, you’re going to stick to a schedule.”

Sarah closed her eyes and buried her face in the arm of the couch, which also happened to be her de-facto bed. She tried willing her hard-ass older sister out of existence, but it was no use. She offered no mercy, pulling the blanket off her and ripping the pillow out of her grip. It was mornings like this where she hated that she’d inherited her mother’s looks while her Rachel got Dad’s strength.

Hit with a faceful of sun and an older sister’s penetrating gaze, Sarah groaned as she pulled herself up from the couch. Wearing a dirty T-shirt, old sweat pants, and the same underwear she’d worn to work for the past three days, she felt about as rested as a hung-over hobo. In some respects, it was a fitting metaphor for her life at this point.

“You must really hate me, Ray,” Sarah said as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “I know I suck as a sister, having to crash at your place after fucking my life up in ways that are entirely my fault.”

“Enough with the guilt trip, Sarah. You know I don’t hate you,” Rachel replied, rolling her eyes at her, “but even you have to admit you need a kick in the ass these days. It’s bad enough you dropped out of college to hook up with that high school crush of yours. But between staying with the guy after he cheated on you and letting him burn through your college fund on that failed video game company of his, you’ve got no high ground to stand on.”

“For your information, it was a software company,” Sarah muttered, as though that much it hurt any less.

“Doesn’t matter what it was. The point is now you’re waiting tables, your credit is shit, and you wasted mom and dad’s charity when you tried to get a payday loan on their car.”

“Which I apologized for a million times, by the way,” said Sarah.

“Too late for that. Mom and Dad gave you leeway and it burned them. I’ve worked hard and exercised infinitely better judgment than you so I’ll give you none. You want my help getting your life back together, this is the price you pay.”

Sarah felt inclined to cuss her sister out until next Christmas, but that only would’ve made her more smug and she couldn’t have that. She’d done enough to screw herself over these past few years.

Avoiding eye-contact with Rachel, Sarah pulled herself up from the couch and did her best to wake up. She tried fixing her messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but at this point in her life, she could only do so much to feel presentable. Having once been the hottest girl in school who had every opportunity given to her, all her bad decisions just made her feel ugly, by default.

As Sarah did what she could to look somewhat less pathetic, Rachel retrieved her purse and keys from the kitchen table. She was already dressed in her overpriced pantsuit, ready to pull some overtime at the law firm she’d been working at for the past five years. Between her makeup and more professional demeanor, it was painfully obvious which one of them had made the better life choices.

“I’ve left a list of errands on the fridge next to the wine where I know you’ll see it,” Rachel said as she checked herself in the mirror near the door. “I need you to go to the DMV to pick up the license plate for my new Mazda, swing by the farmer’s market to pick up supplies for the firm’s annual meeting, coordinate with the building manager open house in the unit across the hall, and take care of that big stack of laundry that’s still sitting in my bedroom.”

“That all sounds like very important work,” Sarah said dryly. “Want me to learn Mandarin and do your taxes while I’m at it?”

“Whatever you can do that’ll keep you on schedule and not making dumb decisions is fine by me,” her older sister replied. “Just do what I ask and I’ll have no reason to kick you out. It’s that simple.”

“Simple…right,” Sarah scoffed.

She’d heard that before. Those three words in that particular order might have been her least favorite words of all time. That was what her ex-boyfriend told her when he told her about some get-rich-quick scheme he’d conjured. That was what she told herself when she dropped out of college to pursue what she thought would be a less complicated life. Every time she heard or said those words, it led to another poor decision that she came to regret.

Rather than risk hearing those words again, Sarah dragged herself to the kitchen in search of something to wake her up. As annoyingly regimented as her sister was, Sarah couldn’t afford to push her buttons. If her sister kicked her out, then she would have nowhere left to go.

“Well, if I’m going to run off and be your personal errand girl, I’m going to need some coffee,” she said.

“Sorry, but this is the last batch,” said Rachel, holding up her travel mug as though it were a trophy.

Please tell me you’re joking,” Sarah groaned. “Please tell me you’re just trying to kick my ass into gear again. I promise I won’t get mad this time.”

“Sorry, but when you’re busy and have a functional career, certain things slip your mind. Guess you’ll have to get some from the new neighbor across the hall and hope he’s a morning person.”

“Are you ever going to get tired of punishing me for being such a bitch in high school?”

“If I do, I’ll let you know if I do,” Rachel replied smugly. “Have a great day, little sis!”

Sarah shot her older sister a harsh scold, but she barely saw it. She was already out the door, on her way to drive her nice new Mazda to her well-paying job while her broke sister relied on public transportation to do all the menial chores she’d been given. It used to be so much easier to hate her sister, but Sarah just made it harder on herself with every bad decision, it seemed.

With Rachel gone, Sarah buried her tired face in her arms and muttered a string of curses that would’ve gotten her arrested if she’d said them in public. She would’ve loved to just crawl back on the couch, fall asleep, and try to regain whatever strength she could for her next shift at the restaurant. Unfortunately, her uptight older sister had given her a lot to do. If she wanted to even have a couch to sleep on, she had to get to work and pretend she wasn’t too miserable.

To do that, however, she needed coffee. There was no way she could be that alert on a Saturday morning without it. Not having the extra money for a latte, she decided to take her sister’s advice and check with the new neighbor across the hall of her sister’s condo. If she were lucky, he or she wouldn’t ask her to flagellate herself for extra creamer.

Not bothering to put on less scruffy clothes, she walked out the front door and to the condo across the hall. Still too tired to give too many damns about waking someone up, she knocked on the door.

“Please don’t be a mean, vindictive bitch who makes me feel like shit,” she said under her breath. “Just once…let me meet someone who doesn’t bust my ass for being a fuck-up.”

Sarah hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst. Knowing her luck, the neighbor was a friend of Rachel’s who conspired with her to make her sister miserable. Much to her surprise, though, the person that answered didn’t look like a vindictive bitch. In fact – and it might have been the grogginess talking – it looked like a handsome, attractive man with dark hair, a light beard, and no shirt to conceal a very masculine, very fit physique.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Can I help you with something.”

“Um…I uh,” Sarah stammered, suddenly feeling stupid for wearing such unflattering clothes.

“Are…you okay?” he asked her.

“Coffee!” she said, her brain finally working again. “Uh…do you have any coffee? I’m kind of out and…”

She kept stammering like a drunk prom date, which was saying something because she was used to being the one that made the opposite sex stammer. The man, who must have been a very understanding prom date, just laughed and opened the door.

“Sure, I have coffee,” he said. “Come on in. I just brewed a pot.”

“Uh…thanks,” said Sarah. “I really appreciate it. I’m…having a rough morning.”

“I can tell,” he said as he made his way to the kitchen. “Rough night?”

“More like rough life for the past five years.”

“Well, coffee won’t fix it, but it’ll help.”

Sarah laughed. He didn’t say anything particularly funny, but she still laughed. It felt good to laugh, though. She hadn’t been able to laugh much these past few years. Screwing up and making bad decisions had that effect on someone’s sense of humor. Who knew that being around a handsome man could heal it so quickly?

Trying to regain what little composure she had to begin with, she followed the handsome man into the room. Near as she could tell, he had just moved in. Everything was still messy. There were boxes, pictures, and pieces of furniture strewn everywhere. However, it didn’t strike her as the reckless kind of messy. It came off as a productive kind of mess, the kind that hinted at a man who had his shit together.

“You’ll have to forgive the mess,” the man said. “I just moved in yesterday and I’m still unpacking.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve seen, lived, and made bigger messes than this,” Sarah said.

“Wow. It sounds like you’ve had an interesting life, Miss…”

“Sarah,” she said, “Sarah Jones.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m James Holt. I’m not new to this county, this state, or this county, but I am new to this condo. It’s actually the first condo I’ve ever had…not to mention the first home of my own that I’ve ever had.”

“Damn, then this mess is deceptive,” she joked. “It sounds like you’ve got your shit together, James.”

“Trust me, I’m still behind the curve.”

Sarah had a hard to believing that for anyone who’d managed to buy their own place and not have to rely on vindictive siblings for living space. However, he was so damn handsome in the early morning sun that she didn’t bother doubting him.

She continued admiring his masculine physique as he handed her a cup of fresh coffee. In the process, her fingers touched his hands. She swore it warmed her up more than the coffee. She did what she could to hide it though, smiling awkwardly at him and trying not to hint at how much he’d brightened her morning.

Standing in the middle of the messy condo, Sarah began sipping her coffee with him. She didn’t even mind that it had no cream or sugar. James seemed to prefer it black anyways. As such, she found herself wanting to align herself with his preferences.

Drinking the coffee helped keep the silence from getting too awkward. The heat from his earlier touch only intensified, though. Sarah worried that both the caffeine and her racing heart might get the better of her.

Searching for a distraction, her eyes drifted towards the only picture that had been hung on the wall. It looked to be a letter of sorts. When she looked a bit closer, though, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t just any kind of letter.

“Hey…is that a rejection letter?” she asked him.

“Yep!” James said proudly. “That, Ms. Jones, is the rejection letter I got from my dream school. I had my heart set on one college, I thought I did enough to get in, and then I got rejected.”

“You say all of that with a beaming smile. Am I missing something here?”

“Well, there is a context,” he said. “You see, that rejection was the turning point for me. When I read it, I thought my life was over. Everything I’d planned for in my life depended on me getting into that school. When I didn’t, everything fell apart. I became a total wreck for years after that, so much so my parents kicked me out of the house until I got my shit together. And God help me, I thank them every day for that.”

Sarah looked at him as though he were an alien who just sprouted a second head. He described the kind of situation that crushed spirits and shattered dreams. She knew those situations well because she’d endured plenty of them. Now here was a handsome man in the middle of a new condo, talking about it as though it were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

“I’m going to need more context, here,” Sarah said.

“There’s not much more than that, actually,” said James. “After being a wreck for a while, I got tired and did something about it.”

“And…that worked?” she said skeptically.

“Not immediately, but eventually,” he replied. “I got serious, joined the army, into a vocational program, and worked my way to an awesome job in IT. Granted, it was nothing like the plan I’d originally had for myself, but it still worked out. I basically fulfilled a dream I didn’t know I had and it’s all because I got rejected. Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…unbelievable,” Sarah said distantly.

She found herself walking up to the framed letter and touching it with her hand. In that overpriced frame, she saw the same crushed spirits that had plagued her over the past few years. Yet standing next to her, drinking a cup of coffee, was a handsome man who took that same frustration and turned it into something. It was nothing short of inspiring. It also made her want this man more than she’d ever wanted her morning cup of coffee.

She ended up only drinking half the cup before setting the mug aside. She then turned to face the handsome man before her, who kept admiring the framed letter like a trophy. He deserved to admire it too. It made her admire him even more.

“James, can I ask you something serious?” she said.

“Does it involve me getting you more coffee?” he said in a humored tone.

“No. It doesn’t. It’s really serious,” Sarah said strongly. “You claimed you were a total wreck…that everything in your life fell apart.”

“And I meant it,” he said.

“But it got better, right? When you put in the work, made the right decisions, and gutted out the frustration…it panned out in the end, right?”

“Well, yeah,” James said, barely pausing to give it any thought.

“And if someone else who was a wreck…someone who feels so pathetic every morning, relying on vindictive siblings and generous neighbors for help…put in that same work, do you believe it’ll pan out for them too?”

She might have been a bit too specific with that question. She probably revealed more about herself than she’d intended. That was something she usually avoided, especially in the presence of an attractive man. However, for James, she gladly made an exception.

“Well, without assuming too much about how you ended up the way you did,” he began.

“Hey!” Who said it was me?” Sarah teased.

“Sarah, be serious,” James said with a coy grin. “Being a wreck sucks. Being broken, lost, and down on your luck sucks. But if you put in the work, stop making excuses, and just push forward…then yeah, it’ll pan out. I believe that.”

“You’d believe that for a woman you just met?”

“What can I say? I have a good feeling about you.”

He moved in a little closer when he said those words, giving Sarah a good whiff of his manly scent. He smelled like he hadn’t showered, but had a long night and worked up a hell of a sweat. It was the kind of musk that sent every womanly instinct into overdrive. Not since her junior prom had her loins been so inflamed and that had been in an overpriced dress.

At that moment, Sarah found herself making a decision that might either be a big mistake or the first genuinely right decision she’d made in a long time.

“James, I know I just met you and you just placed a lot of faith in a woman who just drank your coffee,” Sarah said, “but I need to know one more thing.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best to answer,” he said, sounding intrigued and maybe a little flirtatious.

“If I kissed you right now with my morning breath…and maybe wanted a little more than that…would you stop me.”

The handsome man who’d welcomed her into his new home with coffee and hope grinned at her. She swore his smile lit up her broken soul like a Christmas tree. He must have been a morning person because he set his coffee mug aside and moved in closer, giving him a bigger taste of his manly presence.

“No. I wouldn’t stop you,” he said in a deep, manly tone. “In fact, I’d encourage you.”

“Good!” said Sarah. “Because that’s exactly the encouragement I need right now.”

With more energy than she’d ever had this early in the morning, Sarah threw her arms around James and captured his lips in a hard, messy kiss. His breath still smelled like coffee and toast. Hers probably smelled worse. She didn’t care and neither did he. Within seconds, their lips and tongues were entwined and eager.

From that kiss came more intimate touching. She eagerly explored his exposed upper body while he felt up her hips and waist. The fact he didn’t seem to mind her overly-casual attire only made him more attractive in her eyes. As they kissed and touched, she found herself leading him to a couch covered in unopened boxes.

Along the way, she slid off her shirt and took off her pants, leaving her in a pair of cotton panties. He followed suit, stumbling a bit as he pulled down the loose-fitting pants he’d probably worn to bed last night. Together, they fell on the messy couch, laughing and kissing in a playful outburst of morning lust.

“Oh James…encourage me. Embolden me,” Sarah said curtly.

“Yes, ma’am!” James said eagerly.

Like a man on a mission, he shoved aside some empty boxes to give them more room. Then, he swiftly removed her panties, leaving her fully nude on his couch. Showing the kind of drive she could only envy, he pushed her legs a part and went down on her, gorging on her pussy and filling her with blissful sensations that roused her more than all the coffee in the world.

“Mmm…so encouraging!” she purred.

The man had been hungry for more than breakfast. He must have worked up quite an appetite because she noticed him taking off his boxers while eating her out, revealing a very appetizing endowment. Sarah had encountered men with a propensity for morning wood, but never like this.

“Sarah…ready to feel bolder?” he finally asked her after getting her pussy nice and wet.

“Hell yeah!” she answered without hesitation.

With burning intent, James shot up from the floor and got on top of her. Sarah eagerly spread her legs, welcoming him onto the couch so that he was right on top of her. She even showed off a little flexibility, hitching her legs up over his shoulders so he could enter her with ease. Once in position, he delivered a single thrust and in an instant, her hot flesh parted and welcomed him into her domain.

“Oohhh James!” Sarah cried out.

From that blissful proclamation on, her world rocked. She felt his powerful grip on her hips as he delivered a steady succession of thrusts, working his rigid manhood within her depths. It was so smooth and seamless, as though her body had been waiting for something like this…a feeling to make her feel stronger, bolder, and more determined to rebuild her life. The fact it felt so fucking good was a nice bonus too.

As James made love to her, Sarah passionately raked her nails along his back, feeling the manly sinews of his upper body. There was such strength in his flesh…a strength that had helped him rebuild his wreck of a life. Now, here he was, making love to her. Maybe some of that strength would be imparted to her.

Whether that happened or not remained to be seen. She’d just settle for great sex and a damn good orgasm. That ended up happening sooner than she’d expected. Together, they rocked his couch under the light of the morning sun, their naked bodies moving together in a harmonious union. His touch, his breath, and his sex sent her down a path of ecstasy, one that culminated in the most satisfying climax she’d had in a long time.

“Oohhh fuck!” she gasped. “I’m coming, James. I’m going to…come!”

“Mmm…me too, Sarah,” James moaned.

The pace of their sex accelerated. His hips moved faster and her body rocked harder. After a few, focused movements, he sent her over that special threshold that separated her from her blissful peak. When it happened, Sarah clenched his shoulders, closed her eyes, and threw her head back in a cry of euphoria.

White hot pleasure soon followed, the orgasmic sensations rippling from head to toe. Along with that pleasure came a strength that she didn’t usually associate with sex, although she wouldn’t mind making such a connection.

As she enjoyed her pleasure, James got his. She couldn’t tell exactly when it happened. She just sensed it when his grip on her hips tightened, his grunts intensified, and his powerful manhood throbbed inside her, his pleasure echoing hers. Even while in her orgasmic daze, she took the time to admire the contentment in his eyes.

It was the look of a man who appreciated the struggle of rebuilding a broken life. In him, she saw someone who had walked the path she’d been trying to walk. In her, she hoped he saw someone who was eager to catch up.

As the orgasmic sensations settled, he lingered on top of her. Their bodies remained entwined in a naked heap, his hands still roaming her exposed flesh while she caressed his rugged complexion.

“Thank you, James,” Sarah told him. “Thank you for encouraging me…for making me feel like I can rebuild my life. Oh, and thanks for the coffee!”

“You’re welcome,” James laughed, “and thank you for the morning sex. I think I’m going to like being your new neighbor.”

“Me too!”

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My Five Major Goals For 2018

It’s over. The year that was 2017 is complete. To say it was eventful, especially given the events that affected it in 2016, would be an understatement on par with calling Jennifer Lawrence decent looking. It’s certainly been an eventful year for me, but I’m ready to close the book on 2017 and look ahead to 2018.

Every year, I try to establish a set of goals at the beginning so that I have some semblance of focus for the coming year. They’re rarely specific or overly-ambitious, but they give me a sense of perspective that help me guide myself forward in a positive way. I genuinely want to improve myself year after year, both an erotica/romance writer and a man.

Looking back at the goals I set for myself in 2017, I think it’s safe to say I made progress. It’s not quite as much as I hoped, but I feel as though I’ve taken a step forward. I’d like to keep moving forward in 2018 and I encourage everyone else to do so.

With that in mind, I’d like to share a list of goals that I’ve set for myself for 2018. While these aren’t the only goals I intend to pursue, as every year tends to bring unexpected challenges, I want these to serve as the foundation for how I’ll make 2018 both enjoyable and sexy.


Goal #1: Promote The Hell Out Of “Rescued Hearts”

rescuedhearts_9781786862631_800

This is the most pressing goal I’ll face in the early parts of 2018. As I announced earlier this year, my next published novel by Totally Entwined Group is “Rescued Hearts” and it’s set for release in February. It’ll be my second major release since “Passion Relapse” and I hope to make it the foundation of greater success.

Now, I never expected “Passion Relapse” to be a best seller from the get-go, nor did I expect any of my other self-published novels to gain that kind of audience. I understand that I’m still fairly new to this industry. I’ve released less than a dozen novels and I’ve yet to build a strong audience. “Rescued Hearts” is just another step in that effort and I’m hoping it’ll be a big one.

As I’ve mentioned before, I know little about marketing. I can talk about sexy topics all day long, but selling them is a challenge. I’m hoping to learn more about that process in 2018, although I’m not sure which form that’ll take. I hope Totally Entwined Group will continue to help me, both as an author and as someone trying to stake his claim in this sexy industry. By the time 2018 ends, I want to feel like I’ve made real progress.


Goal #2: Finalize And Submit Two Additional Manuscripts

While I intend to focus heavily on promoting “Rescued Hearts” upon release, I’ve no intention of stopping slowing down the development of other sexy ideas. During the latter parts of 2017, I worked hard to complete a couple of manuscripts that I intend to submit to my publisher very soon. Given how helpful Totally Entwined Group has been, they’ll likely have priority.

However, these stories are quite different from both “Passion Relapse” and “Rescued Hearts.” I’m trying to mix up the sexiness as I grow as a writer. That means you won’t see some of the same themes I’ve been exploring in previous novels. You’ll see a different kind of sex appeal, one I hope expands the appeal of my work.

While I’m hopeful for these manuscripts, I won’t hide from the fact that they’re still in need of editing and revising. The first draft of a manuscript is almost always subject to some pretty major revisions. Even my first novel, “Passion Relapse,” involved a complete re-write of the ending. I don’t know whether these manuscripts will require that much revision, but I’m willing to put in the work to ensure they’re sufficiently sexy.

These manuscripts are both a work-in-progress. I’m also exploring a few other ideas for my next manuscript. Most of these ideas are tentative so don’t expect to hear much for now, but I’m hoping I’ll have plenty of sexy ideas to announce in 2018.


Goal #3: Continue Growing The Traffic And Audience Of This Blog

More than anything else, I’ll remember 2017 as the year the traffic for this website really took off. I’ve already mentioned it a couple of times. It started back in November and only continued to grow as the year went on. Much of this is thanks to me joining Reddit and sharing my work with that community. The response has been overwhelmingly positive for the most part.

I want to continue that trend into 2018. I want to keep growing the traffic volume for this blog. That effort is tied directly into the process I mentioned in previous goals to grow an audience. I want this site to be part of peoples’ regular internet diet. Whether it’s my Sexy Sunday Thoughts or my serious discussions on major issues, I want it to have a presence.

The only way I, or anyone on the internet, can achieve that is to continue providing awesome content. I’m not sure at the moment what form that content will take. I’m not even sure which topics I’ll explore. Some of that depends on what happens in the real world. Given all the major events that took place in 2017, I imagine I’ll have plenty to talk about.

I can’t guarantee all those discussions will be sexy, but I will try to make them relevant and meaningful. The internet is already full of digital trash. I’d like to not add to it.


Goal #4: Work On My Personal Life And Get Serious About Finding Love

This goal has little to do with my site and more to do with me, as a person. I’ve mentioned before how I’ve struggled to find a meaningful love in my life. It has been quite a while since I’ve had a steady girlfriend and that has already caused some awkward moments that give me cause for concern.

As always, I look at 2018 with a new hope that this year will be different. My situation is already evolving. As I write this, I’m settling into a new life in a new condominium. It’s my first condo that I own and inhabit myself. I’m hoping that’ll add to my overall appeal with the opposite sex and I intend to keep working on myself to find that special someone.

I get that this will likely be a bigger challenge than most. As is often the case in matters of love, you can’t just expect to bump into the love of your life and let made-for-TV Disney movie take it from there. You have to actually work at being in situations where the one you love will find you. Whether that’s my new neighborhood or the New York City Comic Con, I hope to find that someone this year.


Goal #5: Intensify My Workout And Emphasize More Body Building

This is another personal effort that has little relation to this website or my writing, but part of understanding sex appeal involved enhancing your own. I’ve recounted how I initially got into shape years ago when I effectively shamed myself into going to the gym. I intend to continue that effort in 2018.

However, I’d like to step it up a bit. My new condominium actually has an on-site gym, something I haven’t had before. I’m hoping that this will provide new opportunities and fewer excuses to further improve my health and my sex appeal. Whether it’s with more body building or better athletic training, I want to make that effort.

It’s not going to be easy, but that’s exactly why it’s worth doing. In a sense, this goal feeds into all the others. If I’m going to continue writing about sexy topics and producing sexy novels, I might as well try to be sexy myself. Going to the gym more, sweating it out, and becoming the kind of man I hope women will want to love can only help make 2018 a better, sexier year.

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“The Greatest Gift” A Short (And Sexy) Christmas Story

The following is a short, but sweet sexy story that I wrote to get everyone in the holiday spirit. With Christmas only a few days away, I thought I’d write a little something to celebrate the season, as only an aspiring erotica/romance writer can.

It’s not as long or elaborate as my last holiday-themed novel, “Holiday Heat.” It’s just a simple little story that mixes love, sex, and the holidays into one sweet little narrative. Enjoy!

It was set to be the loneliest Christmas she’d had since her grandmother died. Jessie should’ve been used to it, having lost her father at a young age and endured many quiet Christmas mornings with few presents and limited festivities. However, she’d come to love bigger, more elaborate moments as she grew older.

After meeting her boyfriend, Robby, she thought those quiet mornings were over. For the past three years, he’d gone out of his way to make Christmas extra special for her. He came from a big family and going over to his house was like entering a holiday paradise, full of elaborate meals, abundant presents, and a buffet of succulent deserts. Thanks to him, she’d grown to love Christmas and being part of Robby’s family.

Then, about a month ago, Jessie got a double dose of bad news that promises to derail her Christmas entirely. Robby’s father got sick with severe bronchitis and had to spend several months in Florida with his brother recovering. Most of the family was going to follow suit and join him for Christmas. Jessie thought she’d be going with him.

That was when the second bit of bad news dropped. Her mother got into a car accident, breaking a leg and injuring her back. She ended up needing surgery, the kind that required a recovery period that extended beyond the holidays. As a result, a plane trip to Florida just wasn’t feasible. She had to stay home and Jessie couldn’t leave her. She needed her help around the house as she recovered.

That meant no elaborate feasts and festivities with Robby’s family. It also meant her mother’s ability to celebrate was severely limited. The most they could do was exchange some gifts, having a light meal, and watch Christmas specials all day. If that weren’t bad enough, a snow storm had rolled in and few relatives would be able to drop by to help.

It made Christmas Eve feel even colder than it already was. After spending most of the day putting up decorations and keeping her mother comfortable, she felt too tired to be festive. It seemed like this year’s Christmas would be the same quiet, uneventful affair that left her so jaded as a kid.

When she curled up in her old bedroom that night, having agreed to sleep over at her mother’s house to make things easier on Christmas morning, Jessie expected this year to be one of the most forgettable holidays of her adult life.

“Guess this year counts as one big setback,” she sighed to herself after turning off the light, “and just when I was starting to really like the holidays again. Maybe I’m just not meant to enjoy Christmas like most people. Maybe I just can’t be part of Robby’s festive world.”

It sounded so sad when she said it out loud. It made her want to cry right then and there. Jessie ended up burying her face in her pillow, muffling her voice and absorbing any tears she’d shed. The best she could do, now, was rest up and brace for another solemn holiday.

She tried not to think about all the elaborate ways Robby’s family were enjoying themselves down in Florida. She swore she could smell the chocolate pie his mother made or his sister’s succulent cookies from 800 miles away. Most of all, Jessie tried not to think of how great it felt when Robby held her in his arms, even when he wore that ugly old Christmas sweater that he’d bought in college and refused to throw away.

It was nothing short of torturous, contemplating what she’d miss. Not being with Robby and his family was like the antithesis of a Christmas miracle, a gut-punch to her holiday spirit. She wanted to make the most of the time she had with her mother, but between her injuries and her tendency to recount sad memories of her father during the holidays, it wasn’t looking good.

Jessie closed her eye, groaned into her pillow, and just wished she could skip the holidays entirely.

“It’s not fair!” she lamented. “Why does Christmas have to suck so much? Just this once, can I get a break?”

Jessie kept her face buried in her pillow, muttering a string of curses in hopes she’d just pass out from frustration. She was so tired that she was ready to just let the rest of the holidays pass her boy completely.

Then, just as she was about to nod off, she heard a loud thump against her window. Considering her room was on the second floor of her mother’s house, that was pretty rare. At first, she thought it was just a large chunk of snow blowing off one of the trees and hitting the side of the house. However, another thump followed, along with a familiar voice.

“Jessie!” it said through the cold December night. “Open the window. It’s me!”

Almost immediately, Jessie’s ears perked up and she shot up from the bed. She’d recognize that voice through a window, a snow storm, and a goddamn hurricane. It was Robby, but that should’ve been impossible. Either she was having one of those vivid Christmas dreams or her boyfriend was actually outside her window somehow. Both seemed unbelievable.

“Hurry up, Jessie!” he said. “It’s colder than penguin’s ass out here. Only your ass can warm me up at this point.”

“Holy shit, it is him!” Jessie gasped.

There was no denying it. Only Robby could’ve said something so crude, yet so cute to her on a cold winter night. That meant he was really there. It wasn’t a dream.

With the energy of a kid on Christmas morning, Jessie shot up from the bed and over towards the window. Sure enough, she saw Robby outside, standing atop a ladder with his hand pressed against the glass.

Where he got the ladder and why he was here instead of Florida were just some of the many burning questions she had. Seeing the heavy snow falling outside, she set them aside and opened the window so he could get in. As soon as the window opened, he crawled into her small, yet cozy room. He was shivering, despite wearing multiple layers, but he still had that goofy, lovable smile on his face. Not questioning whether or not it was a dream, Jessie just took him in her arms and hugged him.

“Robby! Oh my God, it is you!” Jessie exclaimed.

“Yep,” he said, shivering as he hugged her back. “I’m here. Tropical weather, warm beaches, and sunny mornings were nice and all for the holidays…except, it didn’t have you.”

“And you ditched your family to be with me, your hapless girlfriend?” she said curtly.

“I didn’t ditch them. They urged me to come here. Even my dad said this is where I should be on Christmas…with the woman I love, in her time of need, celebrating the holidays with her.”

“That…might just be the most romantic thing any man has ever said to me.”

“You mean fully clothed, right?”

“No, Robby. I don’t,” Jessie said strongly.

Her heart was racing. In an instant, the notion that she would endure a lonely, uneventful Christmas faded completely. Even if she couldn’t spend it in Florida with Robby’s family, just being in his arms and feeling his loving embrace was enough to reinvigorate her holiday spirit…among other things.

In an outburst of passion and holiday spirit, Jessie kissed her thoughtful boyfriend with all the love and heart of a million Christmas specials. He eagerly kissed back, even as he shed the heavy coat he’d been wearing to brave the cold. However, she quickly made it clear that she didn’t want him to stop there.

“Robby…you came all this way to be with me,” she told him. “So be with me.”

“Well, I was going to ask for some hot cocoa to warm up first,” he said playfully, “but if this is how you want to warm me up…”

Jessie didn’t let him finish. She was too excited and impassioned to waste another second of this Christmas miracle. Robby was here now, in her room and in her arms on Christmas Eve. That was proof enough that he loved her just that much. Her only Christmas wish from that point forward was to return that love and that wasn’t something she could do fully clothed.

Not caring how wet and cold his clothes were, Jessie helped him strip out of them bit by bit. By the time he was down to his boxers, his skin still felt so cold, but his lips felt so hot. That was all the reason she needed to jump him where he stood, throwing her arms and legs around him and her body heat mesh with his.

The cold and the long trip must have made him extra impassioned as well. As soon as he caught her in his arms, he carried her over to her bed. Together, they crawled under the covers where they made out like a couple of horny prom dates. Already, she felt his flesh warming up, but hers was already too hot to bear. It led her to remove her sleeping attire, with Robby’s help.

“Off…get it all off,” Jessie urged him.

She quickly slid her tight-fitting cotton shirt off over her head while Robby removed her sweatpants, panties and all. His boxers soon followed, revealing a semi-hard dick that even the December cold couldn’t temper. It showed just how much he wanted her sex and her love.

“Ooh Jessie,” Robby gasped as he took in her naked body.

“Robby…make love to me,” she told him.

For a moment, he just gazed at her with his loving eyes. It felt like the gaze of a Christmas angel, one who’d answered her payers for a holiday miracle. There wasn’t just a deep love in his eyes. There was a desire to mend the pain of so many cold and lonely holidays.

Those feelings, and the powerful desires behind them, led him to embrace her naked body as only he could. Jessie eagerly embraced him back with desire of her own, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he got on top of her. Then, in what might have been the greatest Christmas gift anyone had ever given her, Robby made love to her.

It was so raw, yet focused…so intense, yet affectionate. Under the thick covers, the rippling muscles of his manly body glided against the sensual curves of her feminine figure. His flesh melded with hers, sinews entwined like a million pieces coming together to form a single whole. Her body welcomed his, taking him into her depths and feeling his flesh, as well as his love, fill her with every movement.

The sensations that followed were intense and hot, not an easy feat on such a cold, snowy night. It didn’t matter, though. They could’ve been at the North Pole and it wouldn’t have mattered. She and Robby were going to make hot sex and passionate love tonight. There was no way around it.

Jessie had no idea how long they went at it or how many times she’d climaxed in the process. With Robby, it was so easy to lose track. It could’ve been as many as ten, but no fewer than three. All she knew that when all was said and done, they were warmer and more content than any couple could’ve been on Christmas Eve.

“I love you, Jessie,” Robby said to her, breathless from so much spent passion.

“I love you too, Robby,” she told him, “and thank you…for making this the best Christmas ever.”

“You’re welcome, babe.”

They shared one last passionate kiss before settling into a blissful state of post-coital afterglow. Now lying atop his naked body, the thick comforter draped over them, Jessie gazed up at her wonderful lover. He looked so happy, despite not being with his family in a tropical climate. The way he held her in his arms made clear that there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

She made sure he knew the feeling was mutual, holding him closely and listening to his heart beating in his chest. She made sure he fell asleep knowing how much she loved him. She could do no less for the lover that had captured her heart and saved her Christmas spirit.

The next morning, Christmas morning, Jessie awoke to find that her lover was still in her bed and they were still as naked as they’d been when they fell asleep. Robby was still fast asleep. Being a deep sleeper, especially after sex, she didn’t expect him to wake up for a good long while.

That was just fine with her, though. Jessie would’ve been perfectly content spending the whole day like this, lying in bed with her lover and creating all sorts of sexy Christmas memories.

However, that plan fell apart the moment her bedroom door opened and her mother entered, leaning hard on her crutches and looking as restless as any adult on Christmas morning.

“Jessie, are you up yet?” her mother greeted, as though she didn’t even noticed Robby.

“Mom?!” Jessie gasped, immediately holding the comforter up to her naked body a little closer.

It was embarrassing, but not as mortifying as it could’ve been. Her mother knew she was a grown woman. She also knew that she and Robby had been intimate before. That still didn’t mean she liked her mother barging in her room when she was naked with her lover.

However, she didn’t seem all that taken aback and Robby barely stirred from his slumber.

“I put the coffee on. If you want to open presents, get up and get dressed already,” her mother told her.

“Mmm…sounds good,” said Robby groggily.

Still holding the blanket up to her body, Jessie was confused, if not mildly amused. She looked over at Robby, who had that goofy smile on his face again. Then, she looked back at her mother, who had a similar smile. She had a lot of questions, but she had a feeling the answers weren’t going to make this Christmas any less memorable.

“Um…mind filling me in on some context here?” Jessie asked awkwardly.

“Jessie, sweetie,” her mother said with a wide grin, “who do you think lent him the ladder?”

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Filed under sex in media, sexy stories

New Manuscript Submitted To Publisher!

I just wanted to make a quick, but exciting announcement. Earlier today, I submitted another manuscript for review to my current publisher, Totally Entwined Group. While they are still going through some transitions that I’m not at liberty to disclose, resulting in the delay of my upcoming novel, “Rescued Hearts,” they are still accepting manuscripts from published writers. That includes me.

I have high hopes for this novel. It’s quite different from “Rescued Hearts” and “Passion Relapse.” It involves love, romance, and intimacy, but not in the way you might expect. It actually plays off a thought experiment I’ve pitched on this blog before. I won’t say which, but trust me. You’ll know it when you see it.

Given the changes at Totally Entwined Group, it may take a while to get a response from my editor on this. If I hear back, I’ll be sure to make an announcement. I feel like this novel has the potential to turn into something bigger, if I can create an audience. I look forward to sharing more details about it once I hear back from my publisher.

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Filed under Book Announcement