Tag Archives: erotica romance

“Roughly Forbidden” A Sexy Short Story

rough-sex

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about sexual taboos and the kind that may emerge in the future. Given how much I write about gender politics, this is something I contemplate more than most. It can be depressing, but it can also inspire sexy stories. This is just one of them. Enjoy!

“I like it rough.”

There was once a time when a woman could say those words with a straight face and nobody would think much of it. They might see her as kinky tastes, but she wouldn’t be ridiculed for it. However, those days were long gone and Jessica Jermaine was too young to remember them.

At 28-years-old, she lived in a very different world. Everyone was so careful. Every intimate act, sexual or otherwise, was carried out with a level of vigilance that felt so comical in principle, but no one dared laugh. One wrong move became a single act of recklessness. A single act brought accusations. Accusations brought condemnation. Not all of it was of the legal variety, but it was sufficient to keep everyone on their toes.

“I shouldn’t have to do this,” Jessica said to herself as she sat anxiously at the foot of her hotel bed, “but that’s the world we live in. I don’t like it, but it’s too late to change it.”

She sighed to herself as she waited intently, the digital clock on the hotel dresser moving painfully slow. She wasn’t supposed to feel so tense. Jessica was on an overdue vacation, one her co-workers at the law firm she worked at urged her to take. She didn’t deny that she’d been extra uptight lately, but even her closest friends didn’t realize why she felt that way.

Looking away from the clock briefly, she glanced towards the mirror next to the kitchen sink. On the surface, Jessica had no reason to be miserable. She was a beautiful young woman, blessed with the same fit, feminine frame that her mother and two older sisters had. One of her college roommates once told her she had the looks that opened more options than most. She could set higher standards than most in pursuing love, sex, and everything in between.

Jessica had done plenty of that. As soon as she began filling out bras in high school, she basically had her pick of love interests. She could just walk up to a guy, start talking about random topics, and within a half-hour, she had him wrapped around her finger with little effort. She got to lose her virginity to one of the stars on her school’s basketball team. She even got to sleep up with his best friend and teammate afterwards when she got bored of him. That destroyed their friendship, but they were the ones who got the scorn instead of her.

“You thought you could get everything you want because of your looks,” Jessica said to her reflection. “You didn’t think you’d ever have to pay the price. I can’t believe how wrong you were.”

She scolded her reflection while recalling how her reckless behavior played out. She continued that decadent streak into college, going through men the same way some people went through pairs of shoes. Over time, though, Jessica came to regret how many hearts she broke and how easy she got away with her behavior. Whenever she did something wrong or selfish in her relationship, she rarely got blamed for it. Only the men she dated got blamed.

If she cheated on them, it was their fault because they didn’t satisfy her.

If she lied to them, it was their fault because they made it so she had to lie.

If she broke up with them for bad reasons, it was their fault because they were lucky to be with someone like her in the first place.

There was literally nothing they could do to villainize her. At the end of the day, Jessica Jermaine was still a beautiful young woman who had every possible option. Moreover, she needed those options because her looks made her a target. Being the object of every straight man’s lurid desires, she needed extra leeway. It was the only way she could be safe.

That was the over-arching assumption. Nobody said it out loud, but that was how society managed beautiful women who could rouse a man’s passions just by looking at him. It wasn’t fair. Even Jessica couldn’t deny that. Things had a way of balancing themselves out, though. Given all the benefit she’d enjoyed since puberty, though, it almost felt like a punishment.

“Fuck, I’m so horny,” Jessica groaned as she looked back towards the clock. “Why does being wrong have to be this frustrating?”

She shifted her legs uncomfortably, trying to ignore the blaring signals her body kept giving her. It was one of the worst parts of her punishment, but the most fitting in the grand scheme of things. She liked rough sex. She liked it so much that it was one of the only ways she could regularly climax. Unfortunately for her, getting rough sex meant jumping through some frustrating hoops that didn’t used to be there.

As Jessica lamented those barriers, she heard a knock at the door. Almost immediately, she shot up from the bed and rushed over to answer. Her legs were already weak, her every fiber aching with desire. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

“Are you Devin?” Jessica asked through the door.

“Yes,” a deep, masculine voice replied.

“Okay, I’m opening the door now.”

Jessica took a deep breath, ready to endure the most awkward part of the elaborate ordeal she’d set up. She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping aside and covering her eyes in the process. The man she knew only as Devin entered, closing the door behind her and locking it quickly. She could hear him being extra-thorough, using both the lock and the latch to secure the door.

“Please make sure you’re looking away,” he told her. “For my safety, please put your hands over your eyes.”

“Don’t worry. I know the drill,” she replied.

That was being generous. Jessica knew the procedure a bit too well. The hardest part was already behind them, having organized a meeting through a secure chatroom and a screening service. The second hardest part was maintaining anonymity. That helped ensure her safety, but it was mostly for Devin and men like him.

As she stood in the foyer, closing her eyes and looking away, she already knew what Devin was doing. He took off his coat, hat, and sunglasses, which most men in his line of work had to wear while on business. He might have been wearing a wig, as well, for all she knew. It was all for a reason, though.

Jessica couldn’t afford to see his face and neither could he. That was the only way to ensure they both had the necessary leverage. The fact it took such an elaborate procedure said a lot about their respective circumstances.

“You can open your eyes, now. I’m ready, Jessica,” Devin said.

The young woman opened her eyes and turned around. Much to her relief, she saw only as much of the man that she needed to see.

Standing before her in her mid-level hotel was a masked man in blue jeans and a red T-shirt. He had a tall, imposing stature as well, standing over six feet tall and bearing the kind of broad shoulders that reminded her of the athletes she’d dated in high school. He might have even been a former athlete, but she didn’t dare pry into his story. The less she knew about him the better. That was just part of why he wore a mask that covered everything except his eyes, nose, and mouth.

“Thank you for meeting me tonight,” she told him. “I really need this.”

“Yeah, you made that abundantly clear in the chat room,” Devin replied. “You claimed that no women has ever needed an ‘extensive massage’ as much as you.”

“And I stand by that claim. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

“I guess we will.”

He almost sounded skeptical, but Jessica looked back at him with serious eyes. She made it clear to him that she’d meant what she said when she answered his ad. She also knew the unique jargon of his chosen industry. An ‘extensive massage’ was only half-accurate, at best. What it truly entailed often brought out too many mixed feelings, especially among other women like her.

“Everything is set,” Jessica said. “Your donation is on the table.”

“Mind if I check it, first?” Devin asked, sounding as serious as her.

“Go ahead,” she told him. “I’ll wait on the bed.”

“No. Wait right there,” he said. “If you really meant what you said, then it’ll work best if we do things my way.”

He spoke with such a stern, authoritative tone, the kind that most men were too afraid or too careful to use anymore. It was so forceful and direct. Jessica’s inner thighs moistened on the spot, her pants feeling unbearable at that point. Still, she remained patient.

She watched with anxious anticipation as the masked man walked over to the kitchen table and checked the unmarked envelope she’d laid out. Inside, it contained money and a slip of paper containing a QR code. That code was for anonymous digital currency that made up the bulk of her donation for his services. He took out his phone to check it. Once certain that it was good, he smiled to himself and turned back towards her.

“Everything looks good,” Devin told her. “I’m ready to begin.”

“So am I,” Jessica said, not hiding her desperation.

“We’ll see about that.”

Then, like a hardened prisoner breaking free of his, the imposing man stormed over to her, grabbed her by the neck, and forced her up against the wall next to the bed. Suddenly, she went from having all the leverage in the world to having none whatsoever. At that moment, she was at the mercy of a powerful, masked man.

“From here on out,” he told her, his tone deep and menacing, “I’m going to fuck you. I won’t be gentle. I won’t be careful, either. I’m going to be as reckless and rough with you as I damn well please!”

“Yes! I…want that,” Jessica gasped.

“Shut up!” Devin barked.

He slammed his fist on the wall next to her head, evoking as much fear as it did arousal. Even with his hand around her neck, she felt the arousal between her legs intensified. At last, the feeling she so desperately sought was in her grasp. A man, unafraid and unconcerned by her beauty, was going to ravage her.

Devin made those intentions clear as he crashed his lips onto hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth and pinning her against the wall with his body weight. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe with him pressed against her and his hand around her neck. As Devin aggressively kissed her, he hungrily groped various parts of her body, giving extra attention to her breasts and even slipping his hand into her pants. He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t seek her consent. He just did it, an act so taboo that people stopped joking about it years ago.

It was no laughing matter for Jessica, though. The way Devin kissed and touched her – hard, aggressive, and full of the toxic masculine lust she’d been taught to fear – set the tone for the devious act she was about to experience. There was no getting around it. She was about to do something that would’ve left every woman her age aghast.

Devin seemed to know that too. After kissing so hard that she struggled to breathe, he abruptly released her lips from his and leered over her with domineering intent.

“For once, this isn’t about what a pretty girl with nice tits wants,” he told her. “It’s about what I want!”

Jessica, too scared and aroused to form words, just nodded feebly under his grasp. She wasn’t used to being so trapped within a man’s grasp. She didn’t know many women who had ever been in such a position.

“You’re going to get on the bed, strip naked, and take my cock like a horny bitch in heat,” he went on. “Do you understand?”

That kind of vulgarity shocked her. In fact, Jessica was certain that saying those words in that tone to a woman would’ve gotten Devin arrested on the spot. It was jarring, but it also reminded her why she had to go to such lengths to get the experience she want.

“I…understand,” Jessica said weakly.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you. Speak up!” Devin demanded.

“I said…I understand,” she told him.

“Louder!” he commanded. “Say it like you really need it…more than anything you’ve craved.”

He squeezed her neck a little harder and pressed her up against the wall, so much so that he lifted her off the floor. It left her even more vulnerable, but it also made her even more aroused, as if Devin had somehow tapped into a well of forbidden desire.

“I understand!” Jessica shouted. “Please…do it to me.”

She wasn’t sure if that had been weak enough. She barely knew what a weak, vulnerable woman sounded like anymore. It sounded so foreign to her, but it seemed to do the trick. Devin finally loosened his hold on her.

“Good,” he said sternly. “Now, let’s get down to business!”

The imposing man backed away from the wall and shoved her over to the bed, not showing the least bit of concern for her. Already short of breath and shuddering with adrenaline, Jessica practically tripped over the mattress, falling right on top of the clean sheets she’d done so little to ruffle since she arrived.

She could still feel Devin’s shadow over her, his lecherous leer never once diverting from her. It filled her with a mix of dread and excitement, so much so that she didn’t know where one feeling ended and the other began. Jessica didn’t care there. For once, she wasn’t going to make sure a man followed the proper protocol in getting her into bed.

“What are you waiting for? Get naked!” Devin ordered.

“I…I’m doing it. I promise,” Jessica said, unable to hide her arousal.

That came off as so awkward, being aroused and frightened at the same time. It didn’t kill the mood, though. It also didn’t stop her from doing what he said.

With trembling hands, Jessica stripped out of her shirt, pants, and shoes. Devin did the same, practically tearing off his shirt before taking off his pants as though they were on fire. The only thing that stayed on was his mask, keeping his face obscure. She couldn’t know the face of the man who was about to ravage her. Nobody could.

She had only gotten down to her bra and panties by the time Devin kicked off his pants, though. That gave her a clear view of his semi-erect penis. It was even bigger than he’d described in his ad. The idea of a man – especially one tasked with being rough and reckless with a beautiful woman – shoving that into a woman on his own terms seemed outrageous. It felt like one of those old concepts that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, like slavery or gender-based discrimination.

It was still going to happen, though. He was really going to thrust that dick into her and she actually wanted it. That thought caused her to hesitate before taking her underwear off.

“Why are you stopping? Take it all off!” Devin shouted.

Not waiting for her to comply, he stormed over to the bed and ripped off her bra on the spot. Jessica gasped upon hearing the fabric tear, her breasts tumbling out on the whims of someone other than her.

Before she could get over that shock, Devin did the same with her panties. He tore them off with ease, exposing her intimate areas to someone who hadn’t requested to see it, let alone fuck it. Instinctively, she hugged her shoulders to cover her breasts, but the imposing man didn’t let her.

“Hey! No cheating,” he said. “Here…let’s get a good look at your tits and pussy.”

Once again using his strength to full effect, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up off the floor. He then got onto the king-sized bed and laid her down in the center, making it so she was as exposed and prone as possible. When she tried to cover her breasts again, he didn’t let her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them up next to her head.

“Yeah…that’s a rare sight,” Devin said, his eyes hungrily raking over her, “a beautiful, naked woman just lying there for the taking…my taking.”

He gazed upon her as though she were the rarest of spectacles. That might not have been far from the truth. The idea of any woman submitting to a man’s most toxic lusts must have been as jarring for him as it was for her. It must have been arousing too because just gazing at her naked body rendered his dick very erect.

“Look at you,” he said as he hovered over her, trailing his hand over her breasts. “This really is making you horny, isn’t it?”

He gave her breasts a hard squeeze, causing her to gasp. However, it wasn’t one of discomfort or dread. It had the distinct tone of a horny woman…one who hadn’t been satisfied in a long time.

As if to further convince her, he slipped one hand down between her legs, showing little reservation as he rubbed the outer folds of her pussy and inserted a finger into her vagina. That intensely forbidden feeling – to insert something into a woman’s genitals without warning or consent – raised the stakes of the act that awaited her. What they were about to do was very wrong in the eyes of the world around her, but it didn’t matter. She still wanted it so bad.

“I can feel it!” Devin said, sounding almost surprised. “Your pussy is so wet and hot. This isn’t just random thrill-seeking, is it? You really like it, don’t you? You like rough sex.”

“Yes!” she said without hesitation. “I…I love rough sex.”

It must have seemed pathetic, a beautiful woman like her admitting something so deviant. He was genuinely astonished. Jessica could tell. It put her efforts to hire a male gigolo – an act not entirely illegal, but still very taboo, especially for someone like her.

“I don’t envy you,” he told her. “Having a kink like that…no wonder you had to find a guy like me to get it.”

“I know. I’m a freak!” she admitted. “I’m a beautiful woman and I like to be fucked hard. Mock me for it later. For now, just…give it to me. Please…don’t make me beg.”

That sounded even worse, but it got the point across. She was desperate, having to resort to extremes to get the sex she wanted. As a beautiful woman, she was used to getting everything she desired with minimal effort. The fact she had to go to such elaborate lengths for such a devious experience spoke volumes about her and the world she lived in.

“You’ll get what you want,” Devin said firmly, “and so will I!”

With a mix of urgency of lust, the imposing man ceased his groping and got on top of her. He forcibly pushed her legs apart, not being gentle or caring in the slightest, and aligned his rigid manhood with her pussy. Jessica kept her hands at the side of her head, demonstrating a submission that few women dared, and braced herself for Devin’s unbridled lust.

Through a simple thrust of his hips – again, with no warning, consent, or affection – he entered her. Sharp sensations of hard penetration surged through her body. It came at her like a bolt of lightning, igniting nerves and evoking feelings that were so rarely stimulated. Jessica gasped at the feeling, but was quickly silenced by an onslaught of the hardest, roughest sex she’d had in a long time.

“Yeah! That’s it, you horny bitch!” Devin said with a domineering grunt. “Take it! Take it hard…just the way you like it!”

Such vulgar words in such a crude tone offended her on some levels, but intensified the feeling on many others. Devin ravaged her like an animal freed of his chains, working his body against hers, humping her hard with every fervent motion. Jessica’s world rocked in accord with his movements, her breasts bouncing and her body contorting to the feeling of a big, hard penis pumping into her depths without a shred of reservation.

He wasn’t careful in the slightest. There was no pause in between so he could get her permission to do something. Devin did not follow the script of her many other lovers. She was not the arbiter of their sex. She didn’t initiate the act or set the tone. Her status as a beautiful young woman who always had leverage meant nothing anymore. The entire sexual dynamic that she had been taught was thrown away. Instead, she was just a sexual outlet for a horny, aggressive man.

“This is it,” she said as her world shook. “This…is what I wanted. To be fucked…ravaged. I…I love it!”

Just admitting that out loud felt like she was betraying everything she’d been taught about normal sex. Unfortunately, normal sex just didn’t do it for Jessica. She needed something deviously abnormal else to achieve the satisfaction she sought.

Devin did his part to deliver. He maintained that hard, rigorous pace of sex. His hands still gripping her thighs, he forced her legs harder apart so he could get in deeper with every thrust, stimulating the innermost recesses of her womanhood. That alone triggered a unique flood of sensations, the likes of which sent her to the brink of orgasm.

It usually didn’t happen that quickly. For Jessica – and for most girls she knew – getting that sweet sexual release took considerable effort. She really had to work at it, making heavy demands on the man as well, guiding them through various sex acts and expecting them to prioritize their pleasure before they could get theirs. A man’s orgasm was akin to just rolling down a hill where a woman’s was an ascent up a mountain.

That was not how it played out with Devin. Jessica’s love of rough sex just triggered something within her – something she didn’t know existed until she dared to defy convention, as she understood them. Deviant or not, the orgasmic bliss was still plenty potent.

“Ohhh! Coming…I’m coming!” Jessica exclaimed as the feeling approached.

“Already? Damn!” grunted Devin.

Then, in an act that heightened the defiance, Devin released his grip on her left thigh and grabbed her by the throat. With the same aggressive intent he’d shown earlier, he choked her as she crossed the threshold. It was an act of naked domination, a powerful man imposing himself on a vulnerable woman. Rather than offend her, though, it brought her intense pleasure.

“Ack!” was all she got out before the orgasm hit.

It struck her like a tidal wave, the hot release of raw pleasure. Jessica squeezed the sheets with her hands, curled her toes, and arched her back as every muscle below her waist was set ablaze with orgasmic sensations.

It was so intense that Devin actually had to slow the pace of their vigorous sex. Even through his mask, he looked genuinely impressed.

“Wow. You are so…I don’t even know the word!” he said. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but…I like it!”

Jessica barely heard him over feelings of orgasmic bliss, but she got the message and understood the sentiment. The idea of a woman enjoying such deviant sex – let alone a man who admitted to wanting it – was just so problematic. She could agonize over it later, though. There were still plenty more rough sex to enjoy.

“Guess that means I’ll just have to fuck you harder!” Devin said with a devious grin.

Still dazed by pleasure, Jessica just nodded while under the imposing man’s grip. The first orgasm usually just set the tone. From that point forward, it was just a matter of venting the pent up desire.

Devin took full advantage of that. Not waiting for her to recover from her orgasm, he resumed the heated rhythm he’d established earlier. He even got bolder, using both hands to choke her while he humped her fervently. Jessica did nothing to fight it, choking and moaning helplessly as her world kept rocking. Having completely surrendered to a man’s lustful whims, she braced herself for more sex.

He didn’t hold back, ravaging her in every way he could and not once asking whether he had her permission. He decided their positions. He chose how hard and how fast they fucked. Jessica was just along for the ride. He turned her over, laid her flat on her stomach, and took her from behind. He then pulled her up onto all fours, stood up on the bed, and pumped his cock into her while slapping her butt repeatedly. It stung, sending surges of pain and degradation. Jessica still loved it, though. In fact, she courage it.

“Harder!” she cried out. “Do it harder!”

He gladly obliged, slapping her so hard she could feel marks forming on her naked skin. She’d probably have to hide them for a while. If any of her friends saw them, they would freak out. It was worth it, though…so incredibly worth it.

In that position, Jessica had another orgasm. Again, it came with such ease, the reckless intensity of their sex providing abundant stimulation. Devin didn’t slow down, though. Even as she came, he kept fucking her in a selfish pursuit of his own pleasure.

He must have realized how rare it was, a man being allowed to ravage a beautiful woman like her. He really drew it out, as though he didn’t want it to end too quickly. Jessica couldn’t blame him. She had no idea how many other girls like her there were, beautiful young woman who enjoyed rough sex and getting dominated by a man. Based on everything she’d been taught about normal sex, it couldn’t have been many.

Devin made good use of the opportunity and the time for which she’d paid him. He fucked her long and hard, going at it from several more positions that did plenty to ruffle the sheets on the bed. She climaxed several more times as well. Each time she did, he choked or spanked her a little harder. It helped her catch up on all the satisfying sex she hadn’t had, despite all the eager lovers she’d entertained. It also helped him eventually get to his own special peak.

“I’m getting…so close,” he grunted. “Can’t hold it…much longer!”

There was real strain in his voice. Jessica could tell he didn’t want it to end, but his stamina – physical and sexual – was near its limits. She had already had more than her share of orgasms. Devin still craved his release. For that final moment, though, he managed one last act of decadence.

“On your back!” Devin ordered. “I’m going to…come on your…face.”

“Mmm…I’m ready,” Jessica told him.

It shouldn’t have been so appealing. A man climaxing on a woman’s face was supposed to be a relic of a bygone era where men oppressed women regularly. She was supposed to be repulsed. Instead, she licked her lips as though she were about to eat her favorite treat.

Now on her back once more, she laid in the center of the bed as Devin delivered the last round of rough sex. He pumped his cock into her extra hard, the hard smacking sound of his pelvis smacking into hers echoing throughout the room. She could see through his mask the strain of the approaching pleasure, as though it were a dam ready to burst.

Finally, after the necessary number of thrusts, she sensed Devin cross the threshold. With more urgency than she had ever seen in a man, he withdrew his cock from her pussy, positioned himself on top of her, and aimed it at her face. Then, after he gave it a few more strokes, he ejaculated with a force that defied Jessica’s knowledge of male biology.

“Ohhh fuck!” he exclaimed.

Like pent up volcano, thick streams of seminal fluid erupted from the imposing man’s dick. It splattered onto her face in messy globs, dripping down her nose, face, and neck. Some even ended up on her breasts. He must have really held back to release that much cum. It must have been really satisfying too because she had never heard a man sound that content from an orgasm.

“So much cum,” she mused at it covered her face. “Men…they still amaze me, but not as much as women.”

An extended moment of awkwardness followed. Devin remained over her, still rubbing his cock until every last drop of fluid was extracted. He continued gasping for air, his manly flesh glistening with sweat after so much exertion. Jessica had worked up a sweat with men before, but not like that. It was quite a sight.

As they caught their breath, the imposing man rolled off to her side and laid next to her for a brief moment. She barely moved, not even attempting to wipe the streaks of manly juices off her face and breasts. Every muscle below her waist was still burning from rough sex and multiple orgasms. She was also fairly certain she had a mark the shape of his hand on her butt. Had Jessica not been so drained and content, she would’ve laughed.

She briefly glanced over towards Devin, who looked every bit as satisfied. She was usually pretty talkative after sex, but had little to say. She was still tempted to reach over and embrace him, offering her sincere gratitude for giving her the rough sex she so sorely needed. However, she never got the chance.

“We’re done,” Devin said flatly.

In the blink of an eye, the imposing man that had fucked her so hard reverted back to the overly-careful demeanor that she’d seen in so many others. He couldn’t get off the bed fast enough. He didn’t even make eye-contact with her as he got dressed, making sure to keep his mask on every step of the way.

Jessica wanted to feel insulted after what they just did, but she couldn’t blame him for being so distant. She knew what they had just done. She knew what happened to men like him if anyone even accused him of doing it.

“Thank you,” she told him, offering what gratitude she could.

“No need for thanks,” he replied, still not looking away as he put on his shoes.

“I still mean it.”

“So do I,” Devin replied. “You said it yourself. You know the drill. This is the only way people like us can do this sort of thing.”

“People like us?” she questioned.

“You don’t need to play dumb. You wouldn’t have known how to reach me if you were,” he said as he retrieved his money and made his way to the door. “You and me…we’re at the mercy of what we’re supposed to want instead of what we actually want. We live in a world where a man can’t fuck a woman the way I just fucked you and a woman can’t admit she likes it. That’s why it has to be this way…hidden, secret, and deviant.”

With those ominous words, he exited the room, leaving her naked on the bed. He almost seemed scared. That was pretty remarkable, given his stature and the intensity with which he’d just fucked her. It didn’t make sense that a woman like her had to solicit the services of a man like him to get the satisfaction she craved, but there was no way around it. That was just the way it was.

“I still like it rough,” Jessica said to herself. “If that makes me a deviant in the eyes of everyone else in this crazy world…so be it.”

Leave a comment

Filed under Sexy Short Story

Five Overused Romantic Sub-Plots (And How To Fix Them)

videoblocks-romantic-couple-in-paris-eiffel-tower-embrace-kissing-honeymoon-enjoying-european-summer-holiday-travel-vacation-adventure_slmvy-k4ox_thumbnail-full01

Being a self-professed romance fan, I know more about the intricacies of romantic sub-plots than most men would ever dare admit. I’ve consumed an absurd amount of romantic media over the years and I’ve noticed more than a few common themes, some more endearing than others.

However, by consuming so much romantic content, I’ve also seen certain themes get overused and badly mishandled. I could list countless instances promising romantic sub-plots collapsing because it fell into a narrative trap. Sometimes, it’s because of poor writing. Sometimes, it’s because the story has too many constraints. I’ve even cited a few famous cases that exhibit both.

Whatever the case, it’s not hard to screw up a romantic sub-plot. I’ve done that more than a few times with the stories I’ve written. Lately, though, there are certain types of sub-plots that have lost their luster. They’ve either been done too many times or haven’t innovated in way too long.

Overused or not, I believe there are elements of these sub-plots that are worth saving. They just need some refinement and polish. What follows is a list of five overdone romantic sub-plots, why they’ve become so bland, and how to fix them. I’ve covered some of these elements before. This is just the romance lover in me offering some tips for future romance stories.


Romantic Sub-Plot #1: Best Friends Turned Lovers

Why It’s Overdone

I think you can thank sitcoms like “Friends” and movies like “Clueless” for this sub-plot to fall out of favor. Personally, I blame Ross and Rachel for giving this theme a bad name. They took the whole friends-falling-in-love plot way too far. Towards the end, it was more annoying than compelling.

These days, this sub-plot isn’t as common as it used to be. I think a lot of romance fans were burned out on it in the 1990s and early 2000s. There’s only so many times a character can say in so many words “I didn’t realize that what I was looking for was right here in front of me” and sound genuine.

How To Fix It

Simply put, this sub-plot needs to shake up the setting. Too many times, a story about friends becoming lovers is built around one friend having had feelings for the other over many years. That can be sweet when done right, but it’s way too easy to be done wrong. These days, it almost comes off as a long con or stalking.

To fix it, the emphasis needs to shift towards two characters undergoing major upheavals. Perhaps they go through a tragedy or trauma that changes the way they feel about other people. It can’t just be restricted to their friend/lover, either. This upheaval should affect their entire world and from there, they come together in a new way.

It has the potential to show two characters go through major growth as individuals, which eventually turns into growth as a couple. That kind of growth can work wonders for any romance and could offer something more meaningful than old friends hiding their feelings.


Romantic Sub-Plot #2: Love Triangles

Why It’s Overdone

I’ve already made my hatred of love triangles very clear. I’ve gone so far as to cite one from the X-men as the worst of all time. Beyond the comics, though, it’s not hard to see cases of this sub-plot done horribly wrong. Even contemporary romance like “Twilight” and “The Hunger Games” have made this troubled trope more insufferable.

Simply put, love triangles reduce everyone involved to prizes or plot devices. It’s next to impossible to make every character in a love triangle feel like a real character. It turns romantic development into a competition and in the long run, nobody wins and certain characters lose badly.

How To Fix It

I’m tempted to say that love triangles should be abandoned and killed with a 12-gauge shotgun, but I’m not a fan of throwing away romantic themes, no matter how much I despise them. For this particular theme, I think it needs more than just a fix. It needs a complete overhaul.

By that, it can’t just involve two people competing for someone else’s affection. That gets old fast. If there is going to be a love triangle, then it should actually take the time to show why someone is torn in the first place. It needs to be clear that someone genuinely loves more than one person and there’s a reason for that love.

This is also a sub-plot that may benefit from shifting taboos. Non-monogamy is becoming more mainstream and there aren’t many real romance stories about that idea that aren’t bad pornos. A love triangle has to stop being an either/or plot and become a why/how plot. There needs to be a concerted effort to ensure everyone involved gets some sort of emotional resolution that doesn’t involve someone getting screwed over.


Romantic Sub-Plot #3: Destined Lovers

Why It’s Overdone

If you’ve gone through any high school English class or are just familiar with certain literary traditions, you’ve probably seen this in all kinds of media. “Romeo and Juliet” is probably the most famous, but it still shows up frequently throughout romantic media. It’s prevalent in movies like “Titanic” and comics like “Superman.”

Don’t get me wrong. I have a soft spot for star-crossed lovers who are destined to fall in love, but it’s a very bland sub-plot. There’s no real sense of conflict. You know two characters are going to end up together and where’s the intrigue there?

How To Fix It

For this sub-plot, I think a simple shift in context would help. Most romance featuring destined lovers emphasis how they come together, despite the obstacles in front of them. I think it might be more compelling to explore why these characters are star-crossed to begin with. Is it just destiny or are there other forces at work?

There are a lot of factors that go into romance, even those of the non-destined variety. Why not explore the concept of destiny, as it relates to love? Why not dig a little deeper into the intricacies of how it unites people so completely? That wouldn’t just offer a meta-perspective of love, as a plot device. It would give us all an opportunity to reconsider what it means to be in love.


Romantic Sub-Plot #4: Love At First Sight

Why It’s Overdone

This sub-plot is very similar to the destined lovers trope. It’s often a pre-cursor to two people finding out they’re destined to be together. For many of the same reasons, it’s pretty bland and basic. One character sees another, some sappy music starts playing, and the love story is effectively laid out.

We see it happen very overtly in “Romeo and Juliet” and “Titanic.” We see it manifest in some form in most romantic comedies. A character just sees someone they find attractive and that becomes the catalyst for their love. It’s sweet, but not very deep and it has just become too predictable at this point. When two people fall in love at first sight, what other story is there to tell?

How To Fix It

This one can’t be fixed with the same methods as the destined lovers sub-plot. This is one of those plots that doesn’t have to be radically altered, but definitely needs fresh nuance. Finding that nuance means injecting more than just love into the mix when two characters first meet.

The first encounter between two characters is always pivotal. It helps set the tone for their relationship, romantic and otherwise. To make this sub-plot work in new ways, characters need to intrigue each other in new ways. It can’t be enough that they’re attractive. There has to be something else about them.

Maybe the character has a skill that someone has never seen before. Maybe the character causes someone to re-think a past assumption. Maybe it sends them on a new journey that their love interest can join. There are many opportunities here. There doesn’t have to just be one.


Romantic Sub-Plot #5: Sex Complicating Love

Why It’s Overdone

This one is probably the most overtly sexual romantic sub-plot that also happens to be the most predictable. Ironically, it’s “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me” that summed it up best. Things go from “Don’t worry, it won’t get weird” to “It got weird, didn’t it?” That’s every sex-complicating-love story in a nutshell.

This one also has the burden of being weighed down by long-standing sexual taboos. While it may seem like those taboos have faded in the 21st century, it’s still the slutty women and stud men who die first in slasher movies. Sex, even in a romance story, still comes off as something dirty that somehow undermines a romance.

Even though sexual attitudes have evolved a great deal, the idea that sex complicates/ruins a relationship hasn’t moved very far. It’s why sex tends to be an afterthought in modern romances. Sometimes, it’s ignored or assumed and that’s just a waste of quality sexual chemistry.

How To Fix It

As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I’ve been working on that for years. While I can’t claim to have a definitive answer, I have surmised a few ideas turn sex from a complication to a catalyst. It doesn’t have to be overly titillating or pornographic, although that can work. It just has to supplement the romance rather than subvert it.

Sex in romance is often treated like an endgame. It’s marks the culmination rather than the progression of a relationship. I believe that’s a missed opportunity. In any romance, sex should function as a progression, of sorts. It takes the relationship to a new stage, one where new opportunities for emotional and personal growth emerge.

When two characters have sex, it can be more than just a chance to depict genitals and female breasts. It can be an exercise of intimacy where two characters strengthen their bond, rather than sully it. That gives greater meaning to the sexiness and nothing makes romance hotter than genuinely meaningful sex.

Leave a comment

Filed under Marriage and Relationships, media issues, polyamory, romance, sex in media, sexuality

“After The Cure” A Sexy Short Story

2481e9b0000752e409895ab3809db1d6

The following is a sexy short story I wrote while some close family members of mine dealt with major medical issues. It helped remind me just how invaluable doctors can be in keeping us healthy and easing the suffering of others. That talent gives them a unique sex appeal, which I attempt to celebrate in this story. Enjoy!

“Another day, another bunch of lives saved…and lost,” said a restless Dr. Albert Galen.

It was a common refrain for the end of Dr. Galen’s day. It started bright and early in the oncology wing at the Walen Carter Hospital, which he’d worked at for nearly ten years. Throughout the course of his day, he met with patients who’d just gotten the worst news anyone could get about their health. They had cancer.

Regardless of how treatable it was, the news always hit hard and he had to be the one to break it down. Across from his desk, which was often cluttered with files and paperwork, there was a chair where most of his patients sat. More often than not, they were already scared, devastated, and in tears. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to break down crying while he gave them important medical information. That happened at least three times over the past week.

Dr. Galen had to be numb to all that, hardening his soul to an extent that made him feel like a machine spouting medical jargon rather than a doctor. He got into medicine for the same reason most doctors did. He wanted to heal people. He remembered how eager and energetic he’d been when he saw his first patient. Now, he questioned whether he could ever feel that kind of energy again.

The last two days gave him plenty of reasons to doubt that. On his desk was a file of a 42-year-old woman who’d just died because of lung cancer that should’ve been treatable. Less than three hours ago, he had to watch the woman’s husband and children break down crying after she passed. His nurses tried to console them, but Dr. Galen knew there was only so much healing they could offer.

“Life isn’t fair and neither is medicine,” he said solemnly as he closed the woman’s file.

Those were the exact words of his predecessor, Dr. James, who’d retired several years early from oncology. Dr. Galen hadn’t noticed at the time, but there was a distant emptiness in his eyes. He later suspected that Dr. James retired early because he’d seen one too many heartbreaking scenes. He had treated and cured countless patients, but the ones he lost always stung the worst. Looking back on it, he probably should’ve seen that as a warning.

“There’s fair, there’s unfair, and then there’s this,” the middle-aged man said with a sigh. “Cancer…the ultimate injustice.”

Checking his watch, he saw that it was late. He should’ve gone home an hour ago, but Dr. James preferred to keep busy. It was his way of coping with especially unfair days. After watching cancer take the life of a woman who’d attended her youngest son’s first little league game three weeks ago, he needed to stay extra busy. That woman had been especially unlucky, even by medical standards. Cases like that took cancer’s unfairness to an extreme.

Dr. Galen knew that doctors couldn’t get too personally attached with patients. That was supposed to mitigate the impact whenever something went wrong, which happened fairly often with cancer. Even for the best doctors, though, it took a toll.

“The doctors that save the most lives usually have the most hardened souls,” Dr. Galen muttered, “the second greatest injustice.”

That was something his old teacher in medical school told him when he said he wanted to specialize in oncology. He didn’t get the subtext at the time, but with each dead patient, it felt like less a warning and more a prophecy…one that kept fulfilling itself.

Still not inclined to go home, Dr. Galen sat back in his desk and opened up the drawer where he kept a bottle of scotch. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have it in the oncology wing, but after seeing a seven-year-old boy cry over the body of his dead mother, he sensed the Dean of Medicine would give him a pass.

“Guess my soul isn’t hard enough yet,” he said, “but I’m almost there.”

In the bottle, Dr. Galen saw the reflection of a middle-aged man who looked at least eight-years older than he should have. He wasn’t even 50 and his hair was already graying. It undercut how hard he’d worked to take care of himself after his father died at such a young age. That work didn’t seem to matter, though. Even when he wasn’t the one with cancer, it still found a way to make him sick.

Groaning to himself, the middle-aged man opened the bottle and retrieved a glass from the other drawer. As he sifted through more messy folders, there was a knock at his door.

“Dr. Galen?” said a feminine voice. “Do you have a minute?”

Looking up from his desk, Dr. Galen was somewhat surprised to see an attractive young woman standing in his doorway. If the low cut mini-skirt, halter top, and cheap flip-flips were any indication, she wasn’t a nurse.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, setting aside the scotch bottle and putting on his professional demeanor again. “Can I help you, ma’am? Just so you know, I don’t usually take appointments this late at night.”

“That’s okay. I’m not a patient,” the woman said. “My name is Anna. My mother is Lydia Strom. You treated her for non-small-cell lung carcinoma last month.”

Dr. Galen needed a minute to recall that name, partly due to the late hour of the night and the myriad of patients he treated. It was somewhat striking that someone remembered such a specific type of cancer, which helped him recall a particular case. In that same case, though, he didn’t recall the patient’s daughter wearing such provocative attire to a hospital.

“Lydia Strom…I remember treating her,” Dr. Galen said. “She’s the woman who always had to have that old jade necklace of hers nearby, right?”

“Yep! That’s her,” Anna said with a smile.

“Is she okay?” he asked. “If I recall, we caught it early and she responded well to chemotherapy.”

“You did. As far as I know, she’s completely cured and as healthy as she’s ever been. She even started taking tennis lessons with my dad.”

“That’s a healthy activity. Is everything else okay? Did she see get that counseling I recommended?”

“Calm down, Doctor. I’m not here because something’s wrong,” the young woman told him. “I’m here because I wanted to thank you personally. When someone saves your mother from cancer, a thank-you and a gift card just doesn’t cut it.”

Dr. Galen was taken aback, but in a good way. It wasn’t that unusual for a patient or their family members to offer extra gratitude after their treatment. After the day he’d endured, though, he needed it.

“Oh, well…you’re very welcome, I suppose,” he said, still trying to maintain his professional demeanor. “I’m not the only one you should thank, though. My nurses, my staff, and even my assistants played a part.”

“I already thanked them,” Anna said. “They all told me the same thing. You’re the one who does the heavy lifting around here. You make all the hard calls. You shoulder the good news and the bad. Some even wonder how you do it.”

“It comes with the degree and the stethoscope, especially my chosen field.”

“You say that like it’s no big deal.”

“I know it is,” he admitted, “although, if I’m being honest, my staff thinks I handle things better than I actually do.”

“In their defense, you’re very convincing. You had to keep your cool while my father, my brother, and little sister lost it when you gave your diagnosis. We were all so scared. For a while, I actually had to think about my mother dying…contemplating life without her.”

Her words took on an emotional undertone. Dr. Galen had heard it many times before, but the way Anna said it made it seem meaningful. It was enough to make him temper his doctor-like demeanor that he always maintained while at the hospital.

Anna took a moment to regain her composure. She then entered his office, closing the door behind them. Walking up to his desk, her eyes glistening with tears of sincerity, she leaned over his desk. In doing so, Dr. Galen noticed that the halter top she wore was a bit undersized.

“I’ve never been good at confronting terrible things,” she went on. “During my mom’s treatment, I basically hid in the corner and kept my head down, not wanting to look at it or think about it. That’s probably why you don’t remember me.”

“That, and I don’t recall you wearing such noticeable attire,” Dr. Galen said, trying hard not to stare at the young woman’s cleavage.

“That’s because I only dress this way when I’ve got a damn good reason. Not long ago, that usually involved getting free drinks at the bar near my college dorm. Now, my priorities are different.”

There was a very seductive subtext to her words. Anna leaned over a bit more, as if to direct his gaze towards her breasts. Having eschewed professionalism, Dr. Galen let himself look. In doing so, he surmised that the young woman wasn’t wearing a bra. From there, the doctor in him diagnosed her intent.

“My world changed when I found out my mom had cancer,” Anna continued. “It changed again when you told her she was cured.”

“I’m just doing what doctors do,” he said, his eyes alternating between her breasts and face.

“It’s one thing to treat a sore throat. It’s another to treat cancer. That’s why when you save a life, it matters a little more. It also deserves special gratitude.”

She almost seemed determined, as though it was her duty to bring balance to a horribly unfair universe. Having just lamented about the gross injustices wrought by cancer, her demeanor heightened Dr. Galen’s interest almost as much as her cleavage.

With his eyes now locked on her, the attractive young woman crawled up onto his oversized desk, not at all minding the mess of files and paperwork. Upon reaching the center, she shifted into an upright position, narrowed her gaze on him, and stripped off the undersized halter top. She even made a spectacle of it, doing it slowly and sensually so that her well-shaped breasts came tumbling out in just the right way. Suddenly, her lack of a bra made sense.

“Wow,” the middle-aged man said distantly.

“Just the symptom I was hoping for,” Anna said playfully.

Four years of medical school, three years of residency, and over a decade of experience in a well-funded private hospital had not given him the vocabulary he needed for that moment. He’d seen plenty of naked bodies of varying states of health. The sight of female breasts shouldn’t have had such an impact, but the way Anna presented them defied medical expertise.

“For the man who saved my mother, though,” she said, “I’d like to go the extra mile!”

That came off as both ambitious and sexy. Still atop a pile of paperwork, the attractive young woman unzipped the back of her mini-skirt and took it off, revealing an overly revealing G-string thong. It looked like something a woman would wear to a strip club rather than a hospital. After tossing the skirt aside, kicking her flip-flops off in the process, Anna made her intentions abundantly clear.

“Please…let me thank you, Dr. Galen,” she said intently, “not with words, cards, or hugs. I want to give you something more…something fitting for a man who fights the hardest battles in medicine.”

“I’d say that’s not necessary,” Dr. Galen said, “but I doubt that would dissuade you.”

“Another accurate diagnosis,” Anna laughed. “Battles leave scars. My dad’s an ex-marine so I know the signs. Plus, after finding out from your nurses that you’re single and only married to your work…well, let’s just say I don’t mind being a mistress for one night.”

Like a sexy predator, she crawled across the desk and grabbed him by his tie. She then pulled him into a deep, sensuous kiss…one that included lips, tongue, and everything in between. Dr. Galen offered no resistance. If anything, he embraced it and not just because he hadn’t had time for love, relationships, or sex.

His soul had been so hardened, agonizing over the patients he lost rather than celebrating the patients he saved. In his never-ending effort to remain professional, as a doctor, he worked so hard to temper his passions. Over the years, he’d become way too good at it. In an instant, though, Anna removed those emotional restraints.

“Stand up,” the beautiful woman said, still clutching her tie. “Let someone else treat you, for once.”

Not questioning her credentials, Dr. Galen did as she asked, rising up from his chair so the stood at the edge of his desk. Almost immediate, Anna undid his pants, pulling pushing them down along with his underwear to free his growing manhood. Just seeing her breasts earlier got his blood flowing in the right direction. Kissing her had ignited his arousal and Anna seemed intent on accelerating it.

“Wow. Looks like you need extra treatment,” Anna teased.

“You have no idea,” Dr. Galen said under his breath.

Licking her lips, the young woman eagerly engulfed his cock with her soft lips. Then, with an intensity and passion he rarely saw in a cancer ward, Anna went to work giving him oral sex. Like a skilled surgeon performing a delicate operation, she sucked and licked along the length of his member.

That hot, moist feeling around his manly flesh was intoxicating, sending shivers of sharp sensation through his body. His knees nearly buckled, forcing him to hold onto her head where he ran his fingers through her long, silky hair. The stern poise that doctors were supposed to maintain further faltered, making way for more intense feelings.

“Anna…so thorough,” he gasped, the doctor in him still making observations. “That feels…so good.”

The young woman looked up at him with those seductive eyes as she sucked his dick. In them, he saw plenty of lust, but he saw just as much gratitude. She was really serious about thanking him. She wasn’t just looking at an accomplished doctor who hadn’t lost all his hair yet. She was looking at the man who saved her mother. That proved to be a powerful motivator.

The intensity of her oral sex escalated. She took in as much of his length as her gag reflex allowed, which proved quite impressive. She used her tongue along with her lips, grasping the base with both hands and working to maximize his arousal. It didn’t take long for him to reach that state. Between her blowjob skills and him not having had sex in a while, Dr. Galen soon felt the burning need to vent his pent up desires.

Anna must have sensed that need because she ceased her oral teasing, but kept stroking his cock with the utmost care. Already gasping for air, streaks of saliva dripping down her face, she bore the expression of a woman who had just as much desire.

“Mmm…nice and hard,” Anna said to him.

“It’s been a while,” Dr. Galen said sheepishly.

“That ends now!” the attractive woman said intently.

Without hesitation, she adjusted her body so that she could remove her revealing thong. She even made it a point to toss it to him, as if to give him a keep-sake. Dr. Galen caught it instinctively, which allowed him to feel how hot and moist they were. It showed just how aroused she was, the thought of giving herself to the man who saved her mother providing the ultimate turn-on.

“Take me, Dr. Galen,” Anna urged him, eagerly presenting him with her fully naked body. “Do whatever you need to do…as hard as you need to do it.”

“I assure you, Anna,” Dr. Galen told her as he loosed his tie, “what I need from you is not that extensive.”

“So try anyways,” she told him.

That came off as a diagnosis, of sorts…as though she could see his hardened soul and all the cracks that had emerged. He spent so much time treating others, but had ignored treating himself for his own ailments. Now, here she was, offering him the perfect medicine in the form of her sex.

Dr. Galen couldn’t get undressed fast enough. After undoing his tie, he threw off his white coat and undid his dress shirt. Anna even helped him, crawling over to the ledge of his desk and kissing him hard on the lips, her gratitude and affection showing with every gesture. She prioritized his treatment and he finally decided to do the same.

As soon as he got the rest of his clothes off, he eagerly took Anna by the hips and pulled her forward so that she was off his desk. Their lips never parted, his tongue wrestling with hers as he got his first taste of her naked skin. Then, with a recklessness not typical for an experienced doctor, he cleared an area on his desk by tossing aside the stacks of paper and assorted clutter, creating a nice space of clear mahogany with which to work.

Dr. Galen wasted no time in beginning the treatment, turning the young woman around and bending her over his desk to that those voluptuous breasts of hers pressed up against the wood. It also gave him his first solid look at her heart-shaped ass, which she wasn’t afraid to shake a little, as if he needed more incentive.

“I’m ready, Dr. Galen,” Anna said. “Go on. Treat yourself as much as I want to treat you.”

The middle-aged man didn’t say a word. Feeling a surge of energy that most men his age didn’t feel after midnight, he grabbed hold of the young woman’s hips and guided his throbbing member towards her wet crevice. His desires in overdrive, he thrust forward and entered her hot depths.

“Ohhh, Dr. Galen!” she moaned.

He responded only with a grunt. For a brief moment, the experienced doctor savored the feeling of her womanly flesh surrounding his rigid cock. He could feel her inner muscles tighten, as if to embrace him with her gracious affections. It gave greater meaning to the basic pleasures that followed, as well as greater incentive.

Flushed with vigor he hadn’t felt since med school, Dr. Galen began moving his hips, working his manhood inside Anna’s depths. For once, he wasn’t the overly careful doctor. Instead, he was the patient getting the treatment he needed. The treatment just happened to be the sex of a beautiful, grateful young woman.

“That’s it! That’s it, Doctor!” Anna gasped, matching his energy every step of the way. “Your treatment…so good.”

Those passionate cries spoke volumes for the potency of such treatment. It only got more potent as he stepped up the pace.

Grunting and gasping with greater intensity, Dr. Galen fervently pumped his cock into the young woman’s depths, rocking her body and his desk. She eagerly shifted with every thrust, elevating her right leg and raking her nails down the polished wood. He didn’t care if she left scratches. He didn’t even care when she knocked his phone off the table. Nothing mattered at the moment besides embracing the treatment he so sorely needed.

At one point, Anna rose up and guided one of his hands to her swaying breasts. The feeling of her fleshy mound in his hand added greater intimacy to their act. The way she placed her hand over his, urging her to caress her body and fill her depths, demonstrated more than the whims of a horny young woman. They revealed a sincerity behind the desire, a genuine effort to offer more than just a simple thank-you. Having received plenty of hugs and cards from cured patients, Dr. Galen welcomed that effort.

Whether by gratitude or raw lust, their bodies shifted over the course of their sex. Anna kept guiding his hands over her naked body, allowing him to feel almost every counter of her feminine figure. Dr. Galen found that she enjoyed having her nipples pinched. She also enjoyed having her buttocks rubbed a certain way. It showed in the way she moaned and gasped through each act.

“Anna,” he said in a deep tone as he rubbed her nipples, “you’re welcome…so very welcome.”

“Ooh thank you, Dr. Galen!” she said, mirroring his sentiment. “Thank you so much!”

His keen medical knowledge of the human body’s tender spots really paid off. He was fairly certain she climaxed at least once, although even his medical expertise only went so far. She didn’t seem to make that priority, though. Orgasms were a bonus rather than a goal. She remained intent on treating him.

In the spirit of maximizing that treatment, he repositioned her body in preparation for his own peak. He briefly withdrew from her depths, picked up her off the floor, and set her down on his desk so that she faced him. Her legs remained wide open, welcoming him back into her depths with ease. As he grabbed her by the thighs and resumed their sex, making an extra push towards a much-needed release, she threw her arms around his neck and gazed longingly into his eyes.

“You need this. You want this. I can feel it,” Anna said intently. “Please, Dr. Galen…let me give it to you!”

Dazed and desperate for that healing bliss, he kissed her deeply and wrapped his arms around her as he made his way to the brink. He embraced her as desperately as she’d embraced him, wanting to receive the powerful feeling she sought to convey. Through that shared effort – her offering and him taking it – Dr. Galen achieved a peak that was nothing short of a miracle cure.

“Ohhh Anna!” he exclaimed.

It was like diving into a pool of healing, feeling that powerful surge of pleasure and fulfillment. His hold on her tightened, his knees buckled, and his member throbbed inside her in conjunction with his release. Hot waves bliss rippled through his body, supplemented by Anna’s tender touch and affectionate embrace. In that moment, he felt his soul soften for the first time in years.

While locked in each other’s arms, her legs still secure around his waist, Dr. Galen just clung to her as she supported him in his blissful state. Her gracious gaze and warm smile never faded. She even caressed the side of his unshaven face, not caring about the gray hairs. It was like she had taken his hand and guided him out of a dark corner that he’d stayed in for too long. Instead of lamenting on the patients he lost, he celebrated the ones he’d saved.

“Anna…you were right,” Dr. Galen said, still breathless from his peak. “I did need that…more than you know.”

“Don’t you dare thank me, Doctor,” Anna teased, still caressing his face. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Well, I think you’ve made the extent of your gratitude quite clear.”

“Good!” she said. “That means I can skip a few steps from here on out.”

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“I mean…I’m still not done thanking you.”

Leave a comment

Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Pile Of Leaves” A Sexy Short Story (About Fall)

815ccb5157cb0edb5a088edb32bff2b8

The following is a sexy short story that I wrote to celebrate the beginning of Fall and all the yard work that it incurs. Normally, there’s nothing sexy about that work. I hope to change that with this. Enjoy!

“I hate raking leaves,” muttered a sweaty and sore Darren Cole

“That’s that eighth time you’ve said that today. Keep it up and you’ll get a free burger,” teased Allison Drake, his fiancé and long-time lover.

“I’ll gladly exchange all the free food for the rest of my life to never rake leaves again.”

“I’d make that trade in a heartbeat if I could, but it’s October and we can’t afford a landscaping crew. This is just part of the life we have…and the one we’re trying to build.”

Darren groaned again, but stopped short of adding to the drudgery. He just gripped the rake a little harder, sweeping the last round of leaves into the sizable pile that he and Allison had made over the past four hours. It was hard, frustrating work, but his fiancé made an important point. Raking leaves was one part of an emerging life they had been forging together.

It had been five months since he’d proposed to Allison, but they had been acting like a married couple for years. Friends and family members used to joke that they were the youngest old couple they had ever seen. They’d grown up together in the same neighborhood. They’d endured puberty, high school, and multiple failed jobs. Along the way, falling in love with her just felt like a natural part of the process.

They had gone through so much together, from his father passing away to her older sister getting arrested. He and Alison could manage the obstacles. That was not an issue anymore. Building a stable life, however, seemed much more daunting.

“Building a life,” Darren mused as he packed more leaves onto the large pile, “I know it’s not supposed to be easy, but stuff like this…”

As he caught his breath and stretched his sore muscles, he turned towards Allison, who was also raking the last round of leaves from the yard. She was as dirty and sweaty as him, wearing those stained jean shorts she hated and the T-shirt with a hole in the sleeve that she refused to throw away. Even if they already acted like they were married, it still felt as though they were behind the curve.

In another six weeks, Allison was going to look her absolute best as they walked down the aisle together in a big, elaborate ceremony that his parents insisted on paying for. Darren was going to wear an overpriced tuxedo that his cousin had custom-made for him, one he claimed was worth more than the down payment he’d put down for his first car. Looking their best on their wedding was the easy part, though. It was the little things that often confounded Darren.

He and Allison had lived together for years in a small, but functional apartment. After he proposed, they agreed they needed a bigger place. They needed something stable and permanent, a place they could truly call home. It seemed so good on paper. Darren had no idea it would be so much work.

It started off easy. They didn’t have to search long for their first home together. His Aunt and Uncle had moved out of their old house earlier that year after retiring to a tropical climate. Rather than sell it to a stranger, they offered it to him and Allison at a discounted price. Having started new jobs and needing to rebuild their savings after such a big purchase, they had to build their new life in a very literal sense.

Just moving their stuff over from the apartment wasn’t enough. His Aunt and Uncle’s house was located on a big lot with lots of space, plenty of trees, and good views. It was an amazing place, especially for a couple of newlyweds, but it required a lot of upkeep. Raking leaves was just the latest in a long list of maintenance tasks that had kept them busy for the past several months. It seemed like there was no end to it.

“Do you think all this was necessary?” Darren asked as he caught his breath.

“What do you mean?” Allison asked after setting the rake aside.

“All this – the house, the yard, and all the crap that goes into it – was it really necessary for my Aunt and Uncle? I know they’ve been married 49 years, but how much of that was because they had this house and everything that came with it?”

“I doubt it was that big a factor,” she said. “I’m sure it helped. All this space and fresh air…how could it not?”

“That’s kind of my point. Did they buy this place because they needed it? Or did they buy it because they thought that was just what newlyweds did?”

“Are you questioning the basics of married life already?” Allison said with a chuckle. “Darren, we haven’t even gone on our honeymoon yet. Shouldn’t we wait a few anniversaries before we start questioning the institution?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound cynical. I guess raking all these leaves will do that to a man.”

“That, and you like to think ahead…sometimes to a fault.”

Darren laughed and shook his head. Allison knew him well. She knew his strengths and his weaknesses. While he didn’t consider planning ahead a weakness, he did see it at once of his quirks. It often annoyed his friends, but Allison didn’t mind. It might have even been part of why she fell in love with him.

As he kept dwelling on what awaited them in married life, his bride-to-be set the rake aside and took off the heavy gloves she’d been wearing. She then walked over to him and embraced him, not minding the dirt and sweat that had accumulated from hours of yardwork.

“Darren, do you know why I didn’t hesitate for a second when you asked me to marry you?” she asked him, that beaming smile of hers already easing his soreness.

“Are you going to tell me it wasn’t because paid my brother’s roommate to play our prom song?” he teased.

“Your knack for romantic gestures was just part of it,” she said. “A much bigger part was how well we work together.”

“Work? You make it sound like we share an office.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of work,” Alison said, rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about how we navigate things together. We don’t immediately default to you-do-your-thing and I-do-my-thing. We actually try to help each other, even if it’s something as simple as raking leaves.”

“Given how many leaves we just raked, I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.”

“It’s not about quality or quantity. It’s about our approach. It didn’t happen all at once, but at some point over the course of our relationship, we stopped seeing basic tasks as individual challenges. Even when we do things by ourselves, we keep each other in mind. I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of love or just something that happens to two people who have been together so long, but damn it if it doesn’t feel right.”

Allison caressed his face, running her fingers over his unshaven face. Again, the sweat didn’t bother her. If anything, it aroused her. The way she held him, her arms so affectionately draped around his neck, her love for him showed in so many ways…including the sexy ones.

At the same time, she made a keen observation that was easy to overlook for anyone who thought too much about the future. He and Alison had already gotten to a point that many married couples failed to reach. They saw works as a collaborative effort. Having known more than a few friends whose relationships failed without that effort, he quickly became more certain in both the present and the future.

“Yeah, it definitely feels right,” Darren told her, “among other things…other very sexy things.”

“You’re such a dog,” she teased.

“And you just love petting me,” he quipped.

“Which proves my point,” she added. “We’ve gotten past all the little things that usually keep a couple from making it down the aisle. We’re so good at it that the little things seem to stand out more.”

“Is that a good or a bad sign?”

“That’s just it…I don’t think it’s either. If anything, it’s an opportunity to appreciate just how lucky we are. I love you. You love me. We own a house, now. We’re getting married soon. If raking leaves is the most strenuous thing we do…hell, I’d say we’re doing a lot of things right.”

It almost made too much sense. Darren felt like berating himself for making such a big deal of it. Between fall rolling in so suddenly and having to learn the joys of yardwork once more, it was easy to forget just how lucky they were to have such a strong relationship. All the work they’d put into it made other work seem so mundane by comparison.

“You know just what to say to make me forget how much I hate yardwork,” Darren told her.

“That’s what good spouses do for each other,” Alison said playfully.

“I’ll remember that the first time I have to shovel snow from the driveway this winter.”

“So will I,” she said. “Sometimes, we need to remind ourselves why certain work is worth doing.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any less appealing.”

“Oh I don’t know. In my experience, a key benefit to sharing the work is giving it more appeal.”

“You honestly think you can make raking leaves that appealing?” Darren asked skeptically.

Almost immediately after uttering those words, his future wife cast him a mischievous grin. At that same moment, he Darren realized he did the one thing that brought out one of her most defining traits. He’d just challenged her and Alison loved nothing more than to rise to the occasion.

“Actually, I believe I can,” she said boldly.

“That wasn’t a dare,” he told her.

“Too late! I accept it.”

With energy that shouldn’t have been possible after four hours of yardwork, Alison pulled him into a kiss, complete with plenty of tongue and heavy passion. As sweaty and sore as he was, Darren eagerly kissed back. Anyone who had known the taste of Alison Drake would’ve done the same. Her love and her affection was just that powerful.

The only trait more powerful, in his experience, was her ability to captivate a man in any condition. Despite the sweat, dirt, and splinters, she eagerly pawed his upper body, conveying to him a desire that was not dispelled by the drudgery of raking leaves. In an almost fitting defiance of his hatred of fall yardwork, she led him onto the big pile of leaves they’d just created.

“Come on,” she said to him, “let’s put this big pile of leaves to good use!”

“I take it you’re not referring to composting,” Darren joked.

“No. I’m not,” Alison said in a serious, seductive tone.

Now lying together atop the messy pile, they made out like a couple of horny teenagers on prom night. She kissed him with more tongue, reaching up his shirt while hitching a leg around his waist, grinding her pelvis against his and really getting the blood flowing in all the right directions.

Darren kissed back with equal passion, slipping his hands into the back pockets of her shorts, giving her ass a firm squeeze. He knew how much she liked that, just as much as she knew how he liked to have his chest rubbed. He could already tell she was getting wet between her legs. The fact they knew each other’s bodies so intimately boded well for their honeymoon.

Every touch seemed to convey a growing desire. However, Darren hadn’t forgotten that they were still outdoors. While their back yard was fenced and the trees provided plenty of buffer, it still counted as an unusual location in which to vent their passions. That didn’t stop Alison from taking off her shirt, removing her bra in the process.

“Alison,” he gasped upon seeing her topless form, “we’re uh…still outside.”

“I know,” she said casually.

“It’s also a little chilly out. Are you sure?”

“Only if you’re willing to keep me warm,” she replied.

That sounded like both a challenge and a dare. Much like his future bride, though, Darren loved rising to the occasion. It didn’t just make for entertaining dares at parties in high school. It helped him become the dedicated lover he needed to be for Alison.

They made out some more. Darren made it a point to wrap her in his arms, hold her topless form close to him to keep her warm from the autumn gusts. He paid special attention to her nipples, which had become erect in the cold. When he gave them a slight pinch – a little kink that Alison never admitted to being a kink – she let out a purr of approval.

“Warm enough?” he asked her.

“Mmm…getting there,” Alison said playfully.

Encouraged, he stepped up his foreplay, trailing his lips over her cleavage and trailing his hands around her exposed skin. That helped keep her warm, but it also heightened his own arousal. He could already feel his pants getting uncomfortably tight.

Alison must have felt it too. Their hips grinding together probably gave it away. As they kissed, she undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants. Almost immediately, his cock popped free. The sudden exposure to the elements kept him from getting fully erect. However, his lover had already begun countering that by stroking it with both hands.

“Got to keep you warm too,” she said to him.

“Yeah…some parts more than others,” Darren said.

“Good thing I know how to prioritize.”

Working quickly and boldly, she maneuvered further down the leaf pile so she could give his penis more direct attention. That included shoving it between her breasts and sliding it between her fleshy mounds. That both kept him warm and helped hasten his arousal.

“Ooh!” he moaned. “You have amazing priorities, Alison.”

“Is that what we’re calling my tits, now?” Alison laughed. “I like it!”

Encouraged, she kept working his cock between her tits. Then, she leaned in and gave it a quick suck, sending shivers of bliss and desire coursing through his body. Even though the winds were brisk and the pile of leaves was cold, Darren felt a powerful heat build around him. It was hot enough to remove his flannel shirt, leaving him in the white sleeveless shirt he wore underneath. He kept that on, if only to keep the leaves from scraping his skin. It allowed him to focus entirely on the task at hand.

Alison did her part, using her breasts, lips, and tongue to get him into that special state where he didn’t just seek her intimate embrace. He needed it. She knew how to get him into that passionate mindset better than anyone. As he gazed down at her, that seductive gaze staring back at him, he let her know he was ready.

“I think we’re ready to really test this leaf pile,” she told him after giving his cock one last suckle.

“So do I,” Darren said.

With uncanny reflexes, Alison shot up to her feet briefly and removed her shorts, panties and all. He could tell even in the early twilight that she was very aroused. She needed his sex as much as he needed hers.

After tossing her clothes aside, wearing only a pair of old white sneakers, she rejoined him on the leaf pile. Like an angel in heat, she mounted him like her favorite perch, straddling his waist and aligning his rigid member with her wet entrance. Then, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other clutching his waist, Alison plunged her hips downward and guided his manhood into her pussy.

Immediately, their combined flesh sparked a heat that no fall or winter could hope to quell.

“Ohhh Darren!” Alison moaned.

“Alison…so warm and tight,” he moaned back.

Instincts and passion quickly took over. Their flesh united, they began moving together in a burst of heated lovemaking. It began with her lightly riding his cock, working her pussy along the length of his dick. It quickly escalated, turning into another passionate embrace mixed with heated kissing.

His hands eagerly roamed her naked skin, both to feel Alison’s heavenly touch and to keep her warm from more gusts. She replied with faster movements, rocking and gyrating her hips at a fervent pace. She threw in some loving gestures, which included her clinging to his neck and raking her nails along his back. Darren didn’t care if she left marks. They were already on top of a dirty pile of leaves. They were beyond caring about aesthetics.

In between the grunts and moans that came with sex, the pile of leaves under them rustled heavily. It was not at all like making love on a bed. Parts of it gave way. There were chunks of grass and mud everywhere, smothering and staining their remaining clothes and exposed skin. Darren didn’t care, though. Being messy, reckless, and adventurous only made the experience with his future wife more powerful.

“Alison,” he said in a passionate daze, “out here…together…on a pile of leaves.”

“Yes! Out here…together!” Alison exclaimed, her tone hinting that she was already close.

She rode him harder, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them as she crossed that special threshold that separated basic pleasure from the rush of orgasm. Alison never made it too hard for him. She once joked that she learned how to get off before she learned how to make love. Again, her priorities astonished him.

“I love you…so much,” she panted in the midst of ecstasy.

“I love you too, my autumn angel.”

Darren strengthened his embrace, holding her close so that she could enjoy her orgasm. As she buried her face in his shoulder, he kicked off his pants and underwear to give himself more room to work. Once certain that Alison had gotten her fill of bliss, he took the initiative and continued their sex.

With energy he shouldn’t have had after raking leaves for four hours, he continued making love to his fiancé, rolling around the pile of leaves as if it were a playground. She moaned and laughed as he maintained their passionate rhythm, hooking her legs around his waist and clinging to his neck to keep their bodies entwined. She didn’t seem to mind the leaves poking her skin or the mud on her back. She just kept returning every loving gesture, as if to guide him to his own peak.

“I…I’m getting close,” Darren grunted.

“You’ve worked so hard, my love. You’ve earned it,” she whispered into his ear.

Determined and encouraged, Darren intensified the pace of their sex, working his body against hers for the final push. He ascended quickly to his peak, his body shuddering in anticipation. When it finally arrived, he firmly grasped his lover’s hips and let out a cry to the autumn spirits, as if to proclaim to the heavens how much he loved his future wife.

“Ohhh Alison!”

He let out a deep grunt coupled with a satisfied moan. Time and the changing of seasons stopped for a brief moment. His gaze never diverted from hers as his member throbbed inside her, his manly fluids mixing with hers in a convergence of passion. The fact that convergence took place outdoors atop a dirty leave pile made it that much more meaningful.

Now breathing heavily, sweating despite the brisk air, he rested his forehead against hers as they settled into the post-coital afterglow. They laid next to one another, soaking in that special feeling under the autumn twilight. After the drudgery of raking leaves and assorted yardwork, it felt like a fitting way to cap off their day.

“What do you say, my future husband?” Alison said playfully, now lying next to him. “Do you hate yardwork a little bit less now?”

“I won’t say I love it,” Darren said with a coy grin, “but you definitely gave it more appeal.”

“I still call that a success! It should serve us well as newlyweds.”

“It definitely will,” he said confidently. “It’ll also give us even more incentive to make a much bigger leave pile next year!”

1 Comment

Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Mystery Stud” A (Kinky) Sexy Short Story

kink

The following is a sexy short story I wrote that demonstrates how a blindfold can be a catalyst for something kinky. Enjoy!

“Are you ready for this Marilyn?” asked Connie Chambers in her ever-coy tone.

“Ready, nervous, and excited as hell!” Marilyn Raven replied, trying hard not to sound like an overly-energetic little school girl.

“I’d ask if you’re sure, but you sound so giddy I’ll just skip the part where I act like your over-bearing friend.”

“I appreciate that. Now shut up and put the damn blindfold on me.”

Marilyn – or Mari, as her friends called her – didn’t usually bark orders like that. In fact, she was the kind of girl most described as friendly and soft-spoken, but a little more uptight than most women her age. Few would’ve guessed she had such a kinky side. Even fewer knew how much she loved to exercise it. Connie was among those select few and, on top of being her best friend since grade school, she had similar kinks. She even encouraged them.

“Okay, you horny slut,” Connie said, not yet matching her excitement. “I just hope you appreciate what we’ve had to go through to set this up.”

“Just shut up and blindfold me,” Mari retorted. “I’ll appreciate when I’m less horny.”

“Fair enough,” she laughed.

Connie, standing behind her in a cramped bathroom with poor lighting, placed the blindfold over her eyes. It was brand new, having purchased it less than six hours ago from their favorite sex shop where they were on a first-name basis with the owner. It was soft and silky, the kind meant to be comfortable for hours of continued wear. It spoke the extent of Mari’s sexual tastes that she’d put so much thought into something so simple.

She wasn’t surprised, though, and neither was Connie. They had been partners in kink, as they called it. They’d been helping each other explore their sexual appetites since they discovered how much they loved sex, which had been shortly after Mari realized how good she looked on a thong. What she had planned tonight was not the craziest thing she’d ever tried, but it had the potential to be something special.

“Make sure it’s comfortable,” Mari told her. “I don’t want it coming off before all is said and done.”

“Don’t worry,” Connie assured her. “You’re talking to a certified bondage queen, remember? I know all about making sure things are snug.”

Mari snickered, trusting her friend and focusing entirely on the latest sexcapade before her. It was part of the dynamic that she and Connie had developed. While Connie was usually the first to do something daring and new, Mari prided herself on her ability to refine it. That skill was exactly what had led them to a private sex club on a Thursday night in the middle of winter.

She’d planned it out a week ago. The club, itself, wasn’t that big. It was a bondage club that had been converted from an old bar. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary night club. It was in the exclusive areas upstairs where all the magic happened. That was where the dungeons, the hot tubs, and the bungalows were located. Everything from orgies to role playing to even wedding ceremonies had been known to occur behind the blacked-out windows.

Mari had set everything up ahead of time, reserving one of the smaller bungalows on the third floor that was typically used for BDSM and role playing. It contained a large bed with bondage accessories, including whips, handcuffs, and ropes. She wasn’t yet sure how much use those tools would get. If all went well, they wouldn’t be necessary.

“I’m trusting you to do a lot more than put on a blindfold,” Mari reminded her. “Trust is kind of a big theme for this.”

“No need to remind me,” Connie said, still standing behind her. “It always is with these sorts of things.”

“What I’m about to do, though…it’s going to be a hell of a test. Trust anybody this much, let alone a total stranger, is really pushing the kinkiness factor…even for me.”

“That’s part of the appeal,” her friend reminded her, “and rest assured, I intend to make it as hot as possible.”

She spoke in that deep, sensual tone again. Mari knew that tone well. It was the same tone Connie used when she had phone sex with her boyfriend. She only ever used it when she was either in the mood or really confident.

With the blindfold secure, the most critical step was complete. Her world now pitch-black, Mari could already feel the excitement growing. However, it was only the beginning.

“Time to get this show started!” Connie said. “Ditch the clothes, but leave the underwear.”

Mari couldn’t strip fast enough, slipping out of the fancy blue dress she’d bought last weekend and kicking off her heels. That left her only in a black lace thong with a matching push-up bra. She’d chosen attire that was easy to get out of and sent the right message. She was in the mood to get fucked, but she wanted to do it her way.

“You always had great tastes in thongs,” said Connie.

“Think it’ll get the job done?” Mari teased.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Her friend, now sharing her excitement, grabbed her arm and led her out of the bathroom. Mari followed closely, already feeling the plush carpet of the bungalow on her bare feet.

“Follow me,” Connie said. “From here on you, you keep your mouth shut unless you’re having an orgasm. Understand?”

“I understand,” Mari said, expecting those to be the last words she uttered for a while.

“Good! Then, lie down the bed, hold still for a bit, and wait for the magic to happen.”

Mari did as her friend asked, unable to stop herself smiling. It felt strange, given what she was about to do. A less adventurous, more prudish woman would’ve been fearful. Mari was not like that, though. She was different. She embraced the craziness that often came with her sex life.

With Connie’s help, she laid down in the center of the bed in the corner of the bungalow. She hadn’t used the room before and that was on purpose. She wanted everything to be unfamiliar, from the location to the types of sheets it used. Just feeling the plush, silky linens on her half-naked body was enticing. That was a promising sign in her book.

“I’ll be right back with your mystery stud,” Connie whispered into her ear. “Don’t you dare take that blindfold off. Just wait and the fun will come to you.”

Mari just nodded, taking deep breaths of anticipation as she laid still on the bed. She could feel the air around her getting hotter. Either the air conditioning was poor or she was just that horny. Whatever the case, she hoped she didn’t have to wait for too long.

Everything was silent for a while. She couldn’t even hear the music and chatter going on in other rooms, which was rare for the club on a Thursday night. She’d seen plenty of people crowding the bar downstairs. There were people there. She just didn’t know which one of them would be satisfying her tonight. That, in and of itself, was thrilling.

Being blindfolded, eager, and horny, time really slowed down for a while. On top of the soft, comfortable bed, she had little with which to occupy herself. Given how horny she felt, she fought the urge to just reach into her panties and masturbate. She managed to exercise restraint, but she could only last so long.

She couldn’t have been alone for more than a few minutes, but it still felt too long. For all she knew, it was on purpose. It was Connie’s way of building up the moment. If that was her tactic, it was cruel. If it worked, though, she would forgive her.

Finally, she heard the door to the room open and close. The sound, alone, made her tense with a mix of anxiety and arousal. She already heard footsteps approaching her. Then, she heard it.

“I’m here,” said a deep, masculine voice.

Mari’s heart skipped a beat. That voice, alone, conjured an image in her mind that added to her horniness. She immediately pictured a big, strong man standing in front of the bed, his every muscle bulging with testosterone. She also pictured a big, powerful dick hanging between his legs…a dick that she longed to feel inside her.

“Wow,” the voice said. “You’re even more beautiful than Connie described. She’s a woman of her word…and I intend to deliver as well.”

Her inner thighs moistened at that promise. The heat around her only intensified as she felt a figure crawl onto the bed with him. That proved the air conditioning in the club was working fine. It also affirmed that the man wanted her.

“I’d introduce myself,” he went on, “but Connie specifically told me not to give you my name. She doesn’t even want me to use a fake name. It’s not all about what she wants, though. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Mari trembled at the sound of that strong, masculine voice. She could only muster a nod, already feeling the warmth of his body near hers. She longed for his touch, but fought the urge to just jump him on the spot. She needed to trust in him and her plan.

“In order to do that, though, I need to do things my way,” he said. “That involves you trusting me completely. Do that from and we’ll both get what we want. You have my word.”

It was the most daunting part of her fantasy, placing implicit trust in a man she didn’t know and hadn’t even seen. Everything about their kinky situation related to trust. There was an inherent danger to it, making herself so vulnerable. There was also an immense thrill to it, one that helped fuel her desire.

Once again, Mari just nodded. She didn’t even attempt to reach out and touch the figure before her. If she was going to trust someone to such an extreme, then she was going to go all out.

“Good,” the man said. “Now, raise your arms over your head. I’m going to tie them to the headboard. Don’t worry. I’ll use soft rope.”

Mari did as he requested without hesitation, having already committed to the fantasy. She raised her arms up over her head. Moments later, she felt a soft rope wrap around her right wrist. Based on how quickly the man tied the knot, he had done it before. He was no stranger to bondage. He knew what he was doing. That inspired a bit more trust, as well as more arousal.

She remained still and vulnerable as the man tied her other hand. Before she knew it, her arms were perfectly secure above her head, rendering her completely vulnerable to the mystery stud in bed with her. Her heart was already pounding in her chest. She had no idea what the man was going to do to her or whether she could handle it. That feeling – a total lack of knowing an assurance, leaving her at the mercy of a stranger – evoked in her a special kind of excitement.

“So beautiful,” the man said, “tied up, blindfolded, and submissive.”

As he said those words, he caressed her face and trailed his hands down her body. Those hands were so hard, yet so warm. They felt like the kind of hands that threw bricks around for fun and built monuments. They radiated with the same intense manliness of his voice. Naturally, when those hands passed over her hips and chest, she shuddered with arousal.

“Your skin is so smooth and soft,” he went on. “Why don’t we get you out of that undersized underwear?”

Mari just smiled and purred softly, sending a seductive message that her mystery stud received loud and clear. Showing more eagerness, he swiftly unclasped her bra and removed her panties, leaving her completely naked. The feeling of hot air over her exposed breasts and inner thighs sent shivers down her spine, albeit the best possible kind.

“Such nice breasts,” the man said, “and such hard nipples, too. This is really turning you on, isn’t it?”

Before she could break her promised silence, he grasped her breasts with both hands, giving her nipples a light pinch in the process. Mari let out a high-pitched moan, her excitement echoing throughout the room. That further encouraged the man, who trailed one hand down between her legs where the heat from her pussy had reached maximum intensity.

“So hot and wet,” he said in a humored tone. “Guess that answers my question. That’ll make this next part easier.”

The mystery stud removed his hands from her breasts and pussy, leaving her untouched for a brief moment. That moment didn’t last long, though. Before she could linger too long in her bound state, she felt something brush along her chest and torso. It wasn’t a hand or a finger, either. It was a penis. Mari knew enough about human anatomy to know what a penis felt like on her flesh.

“You feel that?” the man told her. “Do you feel how hard I am?”

No answer was necessary. She clearly felt the intricate details of his stiff, rigid member on her naked skin. She also felt the bed shift as he got on top of her and slid his dick between her breasts, using his hands to mash them together to create a tighter fit.

Mari purred at the feeling. Connie most have told her she liked tit-fucking. Given the size and shape of her breasts, she was better-equipped for it than most women. It often went a long way towards getting a man in the mood and in her current state, it gave her a sense of how endowed the man really was.

As he playfully pumped his manhood between her breasts, Mari got an intricate feel for his size, shape, and firmness. She was already imagining what it would feel like inside her. Not being able to see it or hold it in her hands, she only had her imagination…her naughty, kinky imagination.

“I want to fuck you so much, right now,” the man said intently. “Seeing you here, all naked and bound…I want it so bad.”

Her mystery stud was getting impatient, sounding like a volcano of lust ready to blow its top. Mari wanted so bad to just tell him to do her like he wanted, but she refused to break her silence. That was still part of her fantasy.

She still had other ways of communicating her need, though. To show how much she wanted it too, she gave the tip of his dick a hard lick every time it neared her lips. It was a small feeling, but one that sent a clear message.

“You want it too,” he said. “You want it as much as I do.”

Mari just gave his dick another lick and grinned. She didn’t nod or moan. She wanted to build the anticipation in her mystery stud as much as he had with her. That ended up working faster than expected because he soon removed his cock from between her breasts.

“Then, to hell with dragging it out!” the mystery stud said. “I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to come. It’s going to be fucking amazing!”

There was so much certainty in his words. Mari had heard that sort of thing from men before, but it always came off as overly-macho confidence. Whoever her mystery stud was, he was beyond confidence. He clearly had a kink for control, which was probably why Connie chose him. Control allowed him to be certain. With her bound, blindfolded, and silent, he could exercise that certainty.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

Mari eagerly complied, already breathing heavily as she felt him re-position himself on the bed. She could feel his figure between her legs as he gripped her thighs and held them apart. He was even bigger than she’d imagined. In her mind, she pictured a hulking hunk of masculine flesh in bed with her. That mental image, along with everything else he’d done to her so far, made her crave his sex like never before.

“Here it comes,” the mystery stud told in that deep, intense tone of his.

Almost immediately, Mari felt it. In one targeted motion, the man thrust his cock into her pussy. He filled her moist depths even better than she’d imagined. Letting out a deep moan, she roughly clung to the ropes that had bound her wrists and took in the feeling.

It was so sudden, not being able to see it happen and only being able to react. She could’ve spent hours bracing for it and she still wouldn’t have been prepared. Being blindfolded and bound meant she had no clue as to how intense their sex was going to get, but that was exactly how she wanted it. She’d entrusted her mystery stud to give her everything and he went to work rewarding that trust with the kind of hot, vigorous sex that Mari so loved.

“Ohhh yeah!” the man grunted. “So tight and wet…I love it!”

His every word echoed with lust, which he directed entirely onto her. With their flesh entwined, her mystery stud began humping her with reckless abandon. He made good use of his control over her, really putting his legs and back into it, working his rigid manhood inside her tight folds. Such rigor allowed him to get in deep, stimulating those areas inside her that were so hard to reach, even with a capable lover.

The entire bed rocked and so did Mari’s world. She moaned and gasped every step of the way, letting herself get extra loud. She clung harder to the ropes restraining her wrists, as though she would fly off without them. It went beyond the basic pleasures of hot sex. It was thrilling, being bound, blindfolded, and fucked by a man she couldn’t see or control in any way. Her mystery stud was in control, dominating her like no man had.

He even demonstrated he knew how to make use of that dominance. As he maintained the intense pace of their sex, he released his grip on one of her thighs and used his thumb to rub her clitoris. The man must have paid attention to the women he dominated because that accelerated her path to orgasm. It came rushing towards her so fast, like an oncoming tidal wave that got closer with each passing second.

“Ohhh!” was all Mari could get out.

“You’re coming,” her mystery stud grunted. “I know you are. I want you to. Here…come for me!”

Whether by the extent of his control over her or sheer coincidence, Mari’s body reacted as though he had just flipped a switch. That wave of sensation hit her hard, sending her into a blissful frenzy. She curled her toes, arched her back, and let out a cry of euphoria that left her ears ringing. She was so animated with her climax that her mystery stud had to slow down the pace of their sex.

“Damn!” he said. “You’re one…kinky…woman!”

Mari just shot him a beaming smile, which encouraged him to hump faster again. Still immersed in a world of ecstasy, she embraced that kink that was now so obvious. She’d exercised plenty of fantasies before, but none had been that effective. It was good to know for future lovers.

For now, though, she focused on the mystery stud before her. Mari remained in her blissful daze as the man kept exercising his control, making a hard push for his own taste of ecstasy. He hitched her legs up over his shoulder, shifted his grip to her breasts, and worked his cock into her with more focus. Like a man on a mission, he pushed himself to achieve what he craved.

“Now…it’s my turn,” he grunted. “I’m ready! I’m going to…come!”

He put a little extra force behind his last round of thrusts. That seemed to do the trick. When he finally crossed that threshold, gave her breasts a hard squeeze and let out an extra deep grunt as he climaxed.

It must have been pretty intense for him, as well. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her pussy, radiating with the same orgasmic ecstasy she had felt. The way his muscles felt on her body, his sweat mixing with hers under his powerful grasp, just radiated with so much sensual feeling. His control over her and her submission helped compound that feeling, making for the kind of sex that was both kinky and satisfying.

“Wow,” he said. “That was…wow.”

Still dazed from her climax, Mari just focused on catching her breath while her mystery stud lingered in their intimate entanglement for a while. Eventually, he withdrew from her and released her from his grasp. He even undid the ropes, but Mari still didn’t dare remove her blindfold or reach out to embrace the man.

Even though the sex was finished, orgasms and all, the fantasy wasn’t over. To maintain the power of that fantasy, she could never know what her mystery stud looked like. It was somewhat frustrating, not knowing who just gave her such great sex. That was part of what made it meaningful, though.

“Thank you, Mari,” her mystery stud whispered into her ear. “You’re a wonderful, kinky experience…one I won’t soon forget.”

Then, in an act that seemed out of place after such an elaborate sex act, he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before leaving the bungalow. It was an odd notion, a man who loved to fuck hard and dominate his lover, offering such an affectionate gesture. Mari still gladly accepted it. If nothing else, it completed the mental image of the mystery stud who’d just given her such great sex. That, more than anything, made the fantasy feel truly complete.

1 Comment

Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Summer’s Last Gasp” A Sexy Short Story (At The End Of Summer)

loving-couple-on-the-beach-sitting-sunset_4uuls4t3x__f0000

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about the last days of summer. For some, it’s a bittersweet time of year. For others, it’s a necessary evolution of seasons. This story tries to capture both in a loving, sexy sort of way. Enjoy!

Summer Reya wasn’t used to warm weather going away. She’d grown up a tropical climate where a “chilly day” was anything under 60 degrees or made wearing flip-flops uncomfortable. Then, three critical events changed her life.

First, she got a scholarship to a major university up north. That was a big deal for her and her family. Neither of her parents had gone to college and she was the first of three siblings to attend. The move was supposed to be temporary. Then, the second critical event happened.

She got an internship that turned into a career. While in school, she started working for an up-and-coming biotech company. That company grew quickly and before she graduated, they offered her a full-time position, complete with benefits and a fat salary. Summer still remembered gasping in disbelief when she saw her first paycheck.

That kept her up north a little longer. Eventually, she still wanted to move back home. Then, the final – and, by every measure, the most critical – event happened. She fell in love. That effectively changed her plans for good.

“I can already feel it,” Summer said distantly as she admired the setting sun in the distance. “The extra chill in the air…the lack of humidity at this time of day…even the smell of the wind.”

“Are you telling me you can actually smell winter?” said a humored, but loving voice. “For some people, that counts as a super-power.”

“There’s nothing powerful about it. It’s just one part of my life reminding me of another…the past affecting me in the present.”

“Does it make you feel homesick?”

“It used to,” she conceded, “but then I met you.”

With a smile that could’ve warmed any climate, she turned towards the figure who had done so much to keep her warm. Unlike her, Christopher Bennet was used to the cold weather. He’d spent most of his life up north, enduring harsh winters and never using sub-zero temperatures as excuses. Bearing a thick beard, a rugged complexion, and broad muscles that he’d forged working at rock quarries, he looked like a man who could handle harsh conditions.

That was just one of the many things that had attracted her to him. She’d met Chris in college. In fact, during the first major snowstorm she’d endured, he came by and shoved the driveway of the crowded townhouse she’d shared with three other women. Seeing him brave that storm in nothing but a sweat-shirt while she wore three layers to stay warm impressed her. That one impression led to so much more.

“You don’t have to worry, Summer. You know I’ll keep you warm this winter,” Chris told her as he tightened his embrace on her.

“You always do,” she said as she ran her hands through that thick beard of his, “even though I don’t make it easy for you.”

“I don’t mind the challenge. You help keep me on my toes. I need that in my line of work.”

“A guy who works in a quarry needs a woman who works in a climate-controlled office…there’s just something so fitting about that.”

“I know. You know how to endure the heat. I know how to handle the cold. But together…we find a way.”

He smiled back at her before kissing her softly. Summer gladly returned the gesture. At the same time, a sharp gust of wind blew over them. It was the coldest gust she’d felt since March. It was as though nature itself was warning her that she was going to need her husband’s ability to keep her warm for the next several months. It was one of those warnings that she didn’t mind heeding.

Sitting in his lap, straddling his waist atop a picnic blanket, Chris imparted plenty of warmth and not just in terms of body heat. They had taken a trip to the top of an isolated hill that overlooked the small pond at the north end of their neighborhood. It was one of those places that most people didn’t know was there, which made it even more special to them. From it, they could see the sunset, the trees, and the lights from the downtown area in the distance.

She and Chris had discovered it on their third date. Since then, they’d made it a point to visit their secret hilltop, as they called it, on the last weekend of summer. It signaled the end of days where they could just lounge around in swimsuits and shorts. In the weeks to come, she would have to break out the sweaters, sweatshirts, and jackets that she never had to wear back home. It was bittersweet, but Chris made it worthwhile.

In addition, their little end-of-summer picnic had another important tradition that she was eager to get to. Based on the way Chris felt her up as he kissed her, he shared in that eagerness. Wearing only flip-flops, jean shorts, and an under-sized T-shirt – her preferred attire for hot, muggy weather – it didn’t take long before a different kind of heat consumed them.

“Speaking of finding a way,” Summer said, their lips parting while they remained in a tight embrace, “I think we’ve got one more heat wave to enjoy before I pack away my bikinis.”

“I love the way you think, Summer,” Chris said with a grin.

“It’s going to get cold tomorrow…the first of many,” she said.

“I saw the weather forecast too. I know how it works in these parts. We’re in for a long winter.”

“Which is why we should make this the hottest night of the year,” she said seductively, already trailing her fingers through his messy hair. “If it’s going to be the last one, I want to make it count!”

“And we will,” he replied, matching her seductive undertone. “That’s why before that sun sets, I’m going to make love to you in a way that’ll keep us warm until next spring!”

“Is that a promise, my love?”

“I don’t make promises, Summer. I just tell the woman I love what I’m going to do. Then, I do it!”

There was such certainty and intent in his words. Chris was not the kind of man to make bold promises that he didn’t meet. He said what he meant and meant what he said. No matter the weather, he didn’t let it change his intent, even when it came to making love to her.

Like a man on a mission, he began doing as he said he would. He kissed her passionately, his tongue quickly becoming entwined with hers in an outburst of passion. As he tasted her lips, he laid her down on the oversized picnic blanket, shoving aside the cooler and lunch bags. Summer, her arms and legs still wrapped around his imposing form, soaked up the warmth of his love. With the sun setting fast and the summer warmth already fading, there was a growing sense of urgency.

With the energy of two horny teenagers on prom night, she and Chris made out atop the picnic blanket. They kissed and touched with such intensity, his hands roaming freely up her womanly curves while hers slipped under that dirty T-shirt of his to feel those masculine sinews. With that intensity came heat and before long, clothing became a burden.

“Off!” Summer gasped as her love kissed down her neck. “Please, Chris…get these clothes off!”

Without saying a word, her husband stripped her naked on the spot. He wasn’t playful about it, either. He swiftly pulled her shirt off over her head, undid her bra with ease, and pulled her shorts down her legs, panties and all. The feeling of the cool, evening air grazing over her naked skin sent shivers throughout her body, contrasting with the heat they’d created. Those shivers didn’t last long, though.

As soon as he tossed her shorts and underwear aside, Chris shed his clothes rapidly. He didn’t even care that he threw his shirt into a patch of mud near the blanket. Nothing was going to keep him from capturing the last bit of summer heat.

“Feeling chilly?” he teased.

“A little,” Summer quipped coyly.

“I can tell,” he said, giving her hardened nipples a slight pinch. “Don’t worry. Things are about to get hot…very, very hot.”

He laid down on top of her, naked skin pressing against naked skin. He kissed down her neck as well, evoking a light gasp as intimate touch triggered intimate sensations of all kinds. Again, Summer embraced him with her arms and legs. Without the burden of clothes, her breasts pressed up against his chest, her nailed raked along his bare back, and his growing manhood rubbed up against the heat building between her inner thighs.

From there, their outdoor make-out session evolved into full-blown foreplay. Chris rubbed her breasts, squeezed her butt, and slithered his tongue around her face and lips. Summer returned the favor, running her fingers through his hair and whispering words of lurid passion into his ear.

“I want you, Chris,” she told him in her most seductive voice. “I want you inside me…that big, hard cock inside my hot, wet pussy. I want you to fill me with your sex…and your love.”

Summer felt his manhood stiffen faster. Chris had always been fond of dirty talk. She just what to say and how to say it get his blood flowing in the right direction. As he neared full arousal, he stepped up their foreplay, working his hands over her exposed flesh and allowing the weight of his body to press against her.

It was like wearing a blanket of warm, manly flesh. Even with a chill in the air, it still felt like a muggy day at the beach, especially between her legs. It was a powerful feeling, her husband making out with her in a naked heap. Something about it – being outside in the elements, feeling the shifting winds of the season, and warming one another with their passions – triggered an arousal within her hotter than any approaching winter.

“Are you ready to really heat things up?” Chris whispered, his member now fully erect and pressing against her inner thighs.

“Yes!” Summer said without hesitation. “I’m ready, Chris. Please…make me feel hot.”

Already covered in a light sweat, she braced for more heat as her lover ignited the final proverbial spark.

Shifting his grip to her thighs, he rose up slightly and positioned himself between her legs. Then, with his masculine body glowing in the light of the sunset, he entered her. Almost immediately, Summer felt a surge of hot sensations.

“Hot enough, yet?” Chris said in a husky tone.

“Ooh, yes!” she moaned.

“Good,” he said, “but I’m not convinced.”

Spoken like a dedicated worker/lover, he began making love to her at a fervent pace. He dug his knees and feet into the ground, giving himself extra leverage as he worked his hips with power and passion. In and out, his manhood slithered inside her, hot flesh embracing hot flesh. The end result was equally hot sensations that mirrored their shared desire for one last heat wave before winter.

She moaned in delight as those desires were realized. She did not mute herself in the slightest, her cries of passion echoing into the twilight. She knew how much Chris loved to hear her moan during sex. They motivated him even more, inspiring the kind of determined grunts that radiated with strength and vigor.

“Chris…ohhh Chris!” Summer exclaimed. “I feel it…so hard… so hot!”

“That’s…what I want,” he gasped in between grunts. “I want…to make you…hot.”

“You are! You make me…so hot!”

That heated proclamation took on a literal and figurative sense. She could already feel the sweat from his body mixing with hers, the results of their heated lovemaking taking a very tangible form. She could also feel an orgasm coming strong.

When it hit, there was no warning. Summer rarely had to tell her lover when she was on the brink of orgasm. She made it exceedingly obvious in other ways.

“Oohhh fuck yes!” she cried out.

In an instant, that warm feeling she and Chris had created with their love became a burning ecstasy that shot through her body like a wave on a tropical beach. For Summer, having spent much of her life on those beaches, it was extra satisfying. Beyond the raw pleasure, though, there was more to the feeling. Between the picturesque setting and the prospect of limited heat over the winter, the moment was extra meaningful.

“Yeah…I’d say that’s hot enough,” Chris said.

Had she not been immersed in pure euphoria, Summer would’ve laughed. For a brief moment, the winds, the birds, and the bugs were all temporarily muted as she soaked in the feeling. Her eyes closed, her back arched, and she squeezed her bouncing breasts, creating the kind of spectacle that always gave Chris pause, even in the midst of passion.

Even in her blissful daze, he leaned in and kissed her. His naked, sweaty body now on top of her once more, the flesh kept that passionate heat going. The air around them felt as warm and muggy as a sunny day in July. In that moment, it felt like summer again.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chris told her. “No matter how hot or cold it is…you never cease to astound me, Summer.”

“Speak for yourself, my darling,” she replied. “I swear you can make the coldest winter feel like a trip to the beach.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents,” he teased.

“And I’m a woman who loves to nurture that talent,” she quipped, “and in case you haven’t noticed…the sun hasn’t fully set.”

“Believe me, I noticed!”

Grinning playfully, they kissed again and the lovemaking resumed. If that evening was going to be their last taste of summer heat – literally, to a large extent – then they might as well enjoy every last second of it.

Since her husband had been so dedicated to warming her body and spirit, Summer decided to return the favor. His rigid member still inside her throbbing folds, she grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him over so that she was on top of him. From there, she began riding his cock, quickly re-establishing the same vigorous rhythm he’d so passionately demonstrated with her.

“From now…until the sun disappears,” she said, “we keep making love!”

“That a…challenge?” said Chris, already panting heavily.

“No, my love…a promise!”

She sealed that promise with another kiss. He sealed it too by wrapping her in his arms again, holding their naked bodies close as they danced the lover’s dance together in the diminishing twilight.

From there, a fresh round of heat surrounded them. More hot sensations followed, supplemented by a steady progression of moans and gasps that echoed throughout the surrounding woods. There was nothing fancy or theatric about their lovemaking. It was just the kind of raw, directed passion that could shelter any lovers from the approaching cold.

If the goal was to just keep the fire going and work up more sweat, then they definitely succeeded. Guided by love and a shared desire to sustain the heat, they pushed the limits of their stamina, sexual and otherwise.

After riding his cock for a good long while, they just rolled around atop the blanket, going at it from various positions. They didn’t get too elaborate. Summer didn’t have to test any of her old gymnastic skills. There was a common theme to it, though. Every position was one that maximized body contact, ensuring naked skin rubbed against naked skin. Friction made heat. Heat made more sweat. Together, it made for hotter sex.

It led to more orgasms along the way, complete with more proclamations of ecstasy that stirred the surrounding wildlife. Summer swore the trees trembled as she and Chris rocked the area with their lovemaking. It was as though their passions were fueled by the last gasp of the summer season, the energy flowing into their naked bodies and guiding them through one last round of heat.

“Chris…my warmth…my love,” Summer gasped through the intimate daze.

“Summer…my favorite time of the year!” Chris replied with a beaming smile.

She smiled back and kissed him again, pushing her physical limits to keep the passion going. Chris stayed with her every step of the way, showing off the stamina that had made for so many hot nights. It was a testament to his dedication, doing what he had to do to keep the heat flowing and deliver to her what he promised.

Keeping that promise soon took on a greater sense of urgency. Summer could see the sun was just about to set over the horizon. The final light of the season was about to disappear. That gave them a small window with which to make that moment count. She was on the brink of another orgasm. For the final push, though, she wanted her lover to share it.

“Chris, I…I’m close again,” Summer told him.

“Me too, Summer,” Chris said through labored grunts. “I…I’m so close!”

“Please…come with me. In one more taste of summer…let’s come together.”

As she said those desperate words, he caressed her face while she clung to his neck, holding on for one last rush of summer heat. Their eyes locked, the glimmer of the sun fading fast, they pushed their bodies and souls to that special threshold. It was like the end of a journey, but one they could only finish together.

When they finally crossed that line, she and Chris let out a shared cry of ecstasy. A wave of warm, unabated pleasure consumed their sweat-covered bodies in harmonious release of passion. She threw her head back while he buried his face in her neck, the sounds of their love mixing with the gusts.

For a brief moment, time stood still. It was like the entire season of summer had stopped just to tell her and Chris goodbye. From her position, Summer could see the sun disappear over the horizon one last time. With her lover in her arms, his embrace keeping her so warm, she smiled at the fading twilight. As much as she loved the warm weather, she had no doubt she and Chris could endure any winter.

With the sun now set, she and Chris collapsed atop the blanket. Their bodies parted, but they remained in each other’s embrace, lying side-by-side and absorbing the lingering warmth of their passion. Together, they had forged a special warmth through the rhythm of love and sex. It felt like a fitting celebration for the final days of summer.

“I love you, Chris,” she said to him.

“I love you too, Summer,” he told her.

“Thank you for keeping me warm. Thank you for making every day feel like summer!”

1 Comment

Filed under Sexy Short Story

“Rigor And Sweat” A Sexy Short Story

does-your-sweat-turn-women-on

The following is a sexy short story I wrote about people who don’t understand the value of hard work and those that do. That value has genuine sex appeal, as I hope to demonstrate. Enjoy!

“If you really want something, you need to put in the rigor and sweat.”

That was the mantra that Jennifer Rashad had heard her father, Saul Rashad, tell his many employees at least once a day. As the founder of Silver Chain Industries, one of the most successful companies of the past 30 years, he’d worked to create a culture where people toiled beyond their limits to achieve the sweeter fruits of their labor.

He’d lived by that mantra, having told her and her two older brothers, Raymond and Stefan, the story about what he went through to build his success. He’d been the dirt poor son of a single mother. Now, he was a billionaire married to a former Hollywood actress, whose voluptuous figure Jennifer inherited. He told his story with such pride to family and co-workers alike, reinforcing the value of struggling to achieve something great.

There was just one glaring problem, though. Her father’s message was only selectively applied.

“They’re here!” her brother, Raymond, cheered on a sunny day at her family’s palatial estate. “The X-180 Jet Skis are finally here!”

“A week before they’re officially on sale,” her brother, Stefan, added. “You know what that means, eh bro?”

“A Rashad family test drive?”

“Is there any other kind worth doing?”

The two young men dropped what they were doing and ran out to the private delivery truck that had just backed into the private boat house that was located on the south end of the estate’s ocean-side dock. That dock also housed the family yacht, which her father had named “Rigor.” That seemed somewhat ironic at the moment because that concept seemed empty for Raymond and Stephen.

“Wait!” yelled Michael Prater, the family’s well-paid personal trainer. “We’re barely halfway done with your workout for this morning.”

“We’ll reschedule!” Ray called out. “Some things are more important than our health!”

“Like jet skis,” Stefan said, “new, high-end jet skis!”

They didn’t even turn around to see the annoyed look on their trainer’s face as they sprinted towards the delivery truck. Still in their sweaty workout clothes, they probably weren’t going to change into bathing suits or anything before they took to the water.

Jennifer, who had been reading over emails on her laptop while lounging by the pool in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top, saw Michael’s expression and didn’t blame him for his dismay. He knew as well as the rest of the estate’s staff what a “Rashad Family Test Drive” entailed. It was her brothers’ coy term for parading expensive merchandise to their fellow affluent neighbors. Whether it was boats, cars, or fancy new smartphones, Ray and Stefan took pride in showing off their latest assets to others.

That act of outright boasting wouldn’t have bothered her – or the rest of the staff, for that matter – if her brothers had actually done something to get their hands on that stuff ahead of time. Usually, the most effort they put into it involved making a few phone calls to friends and associates. They didn’t even have to leave their bedrooms to do it. That was hardly in line with their father’s mantra of rigor and sweat.

That didn’t seem to bother him, though. Up on the deck overlooking the pool, Jennifer saw her father casually walking about in the hot summer sun, chatting on his cell phone and conducting business. He just waved to Ray and Stefan as they rolled out the jet skis, not doing or saying anything to stop their behavior. She doubt it would’ve done much good.

“Another day, another bit of unearned rewards,” Jennifer said, sighing to herself. “I should be used to it by now and yet…”

She let her words trail off as she diverted her gaze from her rowdy brothers. It shouldn’t have bothered her. She, Ray, and Stefan had grown up in an affluent world, never wanting for anything or enduring real hardship. Their father, despite his laurels on toil and work ethic, made it that way.

It was blind spot, of sorts, for a man who was usually so attentive to detail. He pushed partners, employees, and co-workers so hard. Her father had once fired a tailor for putting too many buttons on a dress shirt. However, when it came to his children, he made sure they struggled as little as possible.

“You’re my family. It’s my job to take care of you,” was how her father justified it.

Jennifer understood the merit of a man caring for his family. She loved her father dearly because of it. However, it still bothered her in ways that weren’t easy to articulate.

Jennifer certainly had it easier than most, even for a young woman who had inherited her mother’s Hollywood beauty. She went to fancy prep schools as a kid. She got to pick where she wanted to go to college, not even having to fill out an application. Even after she graduated with only a B-average, she still got a high-level position in the family company, but it was one where she didn’t have to do much. In fact, she barely worked four hours a day and made more money than some of her father’s most tenured employees.

Nobody ever criticized or called her out on it. Jennifer even got the impression that the people she worked with and the staff her family employed were afraid of her. She could see in their eyes how they dreaded that one wrong word would get them fired. It created an environment where she couldn’t even attempt to experience the fruits of real rigor…for the most part.

“There’s only one way I can stomach moments like this,” Jennifer told herself as she put away her laptop. “Luckily for me, someone here needs it more than I do.”

She lightly tilted her overpriced sunglasses and cast a glance towards Michael, who kept scolding her brothers for cutting another training session short and subsequently wasting his time. He must have sensed the same need because he turned right towards her, gave her a knowing nod, and stormed back into the mansion.

“I don’t blame you, Michael. Not in the slightest,” she said. “Just be sure you take it all that frustration out on me.”

Knowing the drill as well as he did, Jennifer waited another five minutes, letting the anticipation build. It was just long enough to watch Stefan and Ray high-five each other as they loaded the fancy new jet skis into the water, the typical demeanor of two men enjoying unearned achievement. It added to the general annoyance she felt for her brothers, but it also added a sense of urgency.

“I’m going inside to shower and get dressed, Daddy,” Jennifer called out. “I’ll be ready to join out in the office in about an hour.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Have fun,” her father replied, still very engrossed in his phone call.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. She probably could’ve told her father she was heading out to rob a bank and he would have said the same thing. When he got caught up in work, even on a Saturday, it was hard to get his attention. That didn’t bother her, though. It actually worked to her advantage.

Assured her father and brothers were plenty distracted, she made her way inside the spacious estate that boasted seven bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and a five-car garage. There weren’t many parts of the estate that weren’t absurdly luxurious. There were some areas, though, that weren’t as opulent as others. They also happened to be the places most isolated and necessary for what she had in mind.

“You better be ready to pounce, Michael,” Jennifer said under her breath. “I’ll need some extra rigor this time around.”

Moving faster, she ascended the large staircase in the foyer. She then rushed towards the south end of the mansion where her room was located, complete with oversized closets and a private bathroom better than most five-star hotels. However, that was not her primary destination.

Halfway towards her room, she slowed down. She listened for any maids or cleaners that might have been working off-hours. She heard nothing. Near as she could tell, she was the only one there. The heavy silence, along with the cold air from the air conditioner, sent shivers down her spine. However, they had nothing to do with the cold.

“Just another day in a life of obscene affluence,” Jennifer said, looking around in anticipation.

Those words were the signal. What happened after that was completely beyond her control, in more ways than one.

The instant after she uttered those words, the door of a nearby linen closet burst open and Michael came storming out like a predator in waiting. With his powerful arms and lightning-fast reflexes, he grabbed her from where she stood, putting his hand over her mouth in the process. Jennifer stood no chance, feeling completely powerless as he shoved her into the closest and slammed the door shut behind her.

“Rich, over-privileged bitch,” Michael said in a deep, menacing tone. “Time for some overdue rigor!”

He sounded so intense, like a man willing to work extra hard to get what he wanted. The look in his eyes made clear, even in the dim light of the cramped closet, that she had to work just as hard to keep up with him. That prospect filled Jennifer with so much dread and excitement that she couldn’t tell the feeling apart.

For a brief moment, he kept her pinned against a nearby rack of towels. He wasn’t gentle with her either, his imposing form towering over her and giving no concern for her comfort. For an over-pampered rich girl, it was an unfamiliar feeling, which was exactly why Jennifer found it so hot.

“Now,” he said, taking his hand off her mouth, “get out of those overpriced clothes.”

Panting heavily, her every vein coursing with adrenaline, Jennifer did as he demanded. With trembling hands, she pushed the straps of her tank top off her shoulders and pushed it down her waist and legs. She then undid her jean shorts and took them off too, leaving her in just her bra and panties. When she hesitated, though, Michael pushed her up against the shelf even harder, causing her more strain.

“No stalling!” he barked.

The imposing man pressed his forearm up against her neck, causing her to cough. As she stood pinned and paralyzed from the adrenaline, Michael tore off her bra with one hand. He then did the same for her panties, tearing through the expensive fabric with ease.

Now fully naked, her breasts and pussy exposed to a dominating man who’d once been marine, Jennifer trembled under his penetrating gaze. In that moment, exposed and vulnerable in the utmost, her wealth and pledge meant nothing. For once, she was at the mercy of something more powerful than her father’s influence. For reasons she could only attribute to a full-blown kink, she found it incredibly arousing.

“You pampered little whore,” Michael said, the former marine in him really showing. “You’ve got money, security, and big tits. You’ve never had to struggle for anything, have you?”

“No,” Jennifer said meekly, “I haven’t.”

“Well, that changes now,” he said, “because to get through this, you will have to struggle. Unlike your asshole brothers, you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to make a goddamn effort. Understand?”

“Yes! I understand.”

Jennifer might have said that a bit too eagerly. It showed the extent of how much her kink had intensified over the years. Michael wasn’t the first person with which she’d embraced it, but he’d proven he was most skilled at giving her what she wanted and what she wanted – what she needed for the good of her soul – was for someone to make her work for what she sought.

Michael remained stern, something her previous lovers had been reluctant to do whenever she revealed her fondness for being dominated. He then stepped back, pulling his forearm from her neck so she could breathe easier. His eyes still taking in her naked body, he gazed down on her as though she were the lowest subordinate in all of Silver Chain Industries.

“Get down on your knees,” he told her, “and suck my dick. Suck it until I shoot my load down your gullet.”

She nodded weakly, her demeanor becoming that of a lowly servant and not a spoiled daughter of a billionaire businessman. Under the poor light of the cramped linin closet, she dropped to her knees, the dirty carpet that was rarely vacuumed digging into her skin. Her hands continued to tremble as she grasped the sides of Michael’s athletic shorts and pulled them down along with his boxers, revealing a semi-hard penis.

It was hardly the first time she’d seen his generous endowment. Michael had the kind of dick that strained a woman’s jaw muscles, even those like her who’d been giving oral sex since high school. That didn’t stop her form immediately taking it into her mouth the second it came free. Jennifer knew it was a challenge, giving such a strong man oral sex. That was exactly why she got so turned on by doing it.

“That’s it! Put some effort into it, you privileged bitch,” Michael said as her lips slithered along his dick.

His demanding, crude tone motivated her even more. Jennifer knew she couldn’t half-ass it and still get the job done, as she’d been done all her life. She had to put in real effort. Her father, her money, and her name weren’t going to help her for once.

Taking that notion seriously, she approached sucking Michael’s dick with the kind of effort that had helped make her family company successful. She grabbed hold of the man’s muscular thighs, relaxed her jaw, and bobbed her head back and forth in a hard, rhythmic motion. It was strenuous, testing both her gag reflexes and her ability to bring a man to orgasm. She didn’t assume Michael would make it easy for her. She didn’t want easy.

“Yeah!” he said with a deep grunt. “Suck it hard. Use your tongue. Really work for it.”

Jennifer stepped up her efforts, sucking harder and taking more of his length with every motion. His dick had since become fully erect, really stretching her mouth in ways she wasn’t used to. She still welcomed the challenge, sucking and slurping Michael’s manhood with more effort than any overly-pampered woman would dare.

Michael made it even harder for her, grabbing the sides of her head and holding onto her head to intensify the motion. At one point, he held it still and just fucked her face, as if to let her know how hard he wanted her to suck him. It was so hard that she even gagged a few times, coughing and drooling over his cock. She still kept sucking, though, not daring to wane in her effort.

That sustained rigor, having to suck a dick so hard and meet such unreasonable demands, gave her a powerful rush that intensified her arousal. Jennifer could already feel it between her legs, her pussy getting wetter in accord with the effort. It used to worry her, the idea that being dominated so crudely made her that horny. She’d since embraced it as both a kink and an exercise in work ethic.

“I…I’m ready!” Michael grunted. “I’m gonna come…right down your throat!”

Jennifer summoned whatever energy she had to suck just a little bit harder, pushing herself beyond the limits she thought she had. She gagged a few more times, but didn’t dare lose focus. After a few messy licks, mixed in with some hard face-fucking, she did it. She got Michael to come.

“Ohhh fuck!” the former marine grunted.

As his labored moans echoed throughout the closet, Jennifer felt his cock throb as it released a thick load of manly fluid down her throat. Again, she gagged, but didn’t avoid the strain. She swallowed every last drop, even using her tongue to make sure she got it all. It was part of that extra effort she’d been taught, but never allowed to exercise. While she doubted her father thought she’d employ it through sex, there was no denying the results.

Jennifer remained still as Michael’s body shuddered from his release. She could feel the intensity of his orgasm in the way his legs tensed and his dick twitched inside her mouth. Looking up at him, seeing that look of ecstasy on his face, she saw the fruits of her vigorous labor. It rendered her even more aroused.

“That’s a good dirty girl,” Michael said breathlessly, “so spoiled, yet so determined.”

He withdrew his cock from her mouth. Jennifer gasped and coughed, saliva still dripping down the side of her face. Still looking up at him, breathless and submissive, she pleaded with her eyes for more.

“You’re so pampered, but you still want to work,” he told her, “to feel the sweat and strain of hard, heavy labor.”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “I do.”

“I believe you,” he said with a coy grin. “That’s a rare trait, even among marines. I know because I got discharged for pushing others in all the wrong ways. You, on the other hand…you want to be pushed.”

Jennifer nodded again, submissively and meekly. That fueled Michael’s own fetishes. She suspected that he became a personal trainer because he liked giving orders, having people follow them, and pushing them extra hard. She doubted he’d ever encountered someone as eager to be pushed as her.

It was enough to keep his dick semi-hard, despite his recent climax. That didn’t surprise Jennifer. One climax was rarely enough to satisfy Michael. He needed more work, which was part of why he made her so horny. She continued offering no resistance as he grabbed her by the neck and pulled her back into an upright position.

“Let’s finish this somewhere more spacious,” he said to her.

“Lead the way, Michael,” Jennifer told him.

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll carry you!”

In a show of strength and dominance, Michael put those Marine Corp muscles to good use and lifted her up off the floor. He then opened the closet door, carried her out, and hitched her over the shoulder as though she were disobedient child. Jennifer pretended to struggle at first, but only ended up laughing. She could only pretend so much when she was so horny.

Still naked and at his mercy, she held on as domineering man carried her into her room and into her private bathroom. There, he slammed the door behind him, locked it, and took her to the shower in the corner. He set her down right under the spigot, making her sit on the dirty floor.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Michael said as he took off his shirt and stepped out of his shoes and socks, “I’m going to fuck you…hard. It’s going to be strenuous, rigorous, and exhausting as hell. You’re going to need an extra-long shower by the time it’s over.”

“Is that a warning?” Jennifer asked, goading him with her feeble tone.

“No. It’s a guarantee!”

Looking up at him, his imposing stature casting a shadow over her, made it seem so daunting. Between the size of his muscles, the extent of his endowment, and his conditioning as a former marine who put up with her brothers, the man could ravage her in ways that few could. There would be pain along with the pleasure, discomfort along with the ecstasy.

It was exactly what she wanted, though. Jennifer Rashad, the daughter of a billionaire who only knew comfort and luxury, craved the rigor and the reward.

“Then, there’s nothing left to say,” she said, still on the cold shower floor. “I am at your mercy.”

“And if you want to get through it, you’re gonna have to endure!” he said to her.

The intensity of his tone, as well as his choice of words, heightened her arousal. Her body and mind ached for the rigor Michael promised. He had to know how much his aggressive, dominating approach turned her on. It was part of the process of making her work for it.

“Now, stand up! Face me!” Michael ordered.

Jennifer couldn’t comply fast enough. She shot up from the cold floor so that she stood in the middle of the empty shower. Just being upright proved difficult due to the intense arousal between her legs. She still managed, which was exactly the point. She knew the real rigor had only just begun.

Like a dog in heat pouncing on a mate in heat, he entered the shower stall and pinned her up against the cold marble wall, the dry surface sticking to her naked skin. He then smothered her with his hands and lips, burying his face between her breasts and raking his hands over her naked body. He was not gentle or affectionate, hungrily nibbling on her tits and roughly fondling the outer folds of her pussy.

It was a very aggressive brand of foreplay, but one with an important purpose. It helped set the tone for her while helping him get erect again. Sensations of pain and pleasure surged through her body, overwhelming her senses and sending her into a daze. Jennifer did nothing to oppose Michael’s fervent foreplay, keeping her arms down and back up against the wall. It was uncomfortable, but stimulating. To feel the pleasure, she had to endure the pain.

It began a familiar that Jennifer had come to love and it would only get more strenuous. She could already feel Michael’s dick getting harder. She could sense his burning need as well in the way he roughly fingered her pussy. He was not going to make it easy on her, nor did she want him to.

“Turn around!” Michael ordered.

Her legs weak and her pussy throbbing, Jennifer barely managed to do as he asked. She did just enough though and quickly found herself up against the wall, her still-sore tits pressing up against the dirty marble. Already panting heavily, she could only brace herself for what came next.

“Time to start fucking you,” he said. “I’d tell you to hold on, but…”

He cut himself off, not giving her another second to prepare herself. With maximum leverage from his position behind her and an ironclad hold on her hips, Michael thrust his pelvis forward and entered her. The feeling of his rigid member penetrating her womanly flesh sent surges of sensations coursing through her body, intensifying that pleasure/pain mix he’d established earlier.

Jennifer let out a deep moan, but was quickly silenced when Michael pressed her head up against the wall and began the rough, rigorous, dominating sex that she loved and craved.

“Michael,” she gasped, her voice still muffled, “so hard…so rough.”

“I’m just getting warmed up,” Michael said, whispering directly into her ear.

The former marine in him really showed. The same aggressive bravado that got him discharged earlier also did wonders for his conditioning. He fucked her hard and fast, working his hips at a rapid pace that tested her endurance on multiple levels. Sometimes, there was pain. Sometimes, there was pleasure. Dealing with one was hard enough. Dealing with both required a different kind of strain and Jennifer eagerly rose to the challenge.

Closing her eyes, her nails raking down the cold wall, she gasped and grunted in accord with the rough movements of their sex. She could only do so much to move her body with his, but had to in order to maintain that blend of pain and pleasure. The way her skin roughly stuck to the cold surface added more strain. It also helped her work up a good sweat, more so than any her brothers had gotten during their workout. That seemed to encourage Michael even more.

The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled the bathroom, along with their various grunts and moans. Michael even gave her butt a few light smacks, which helped intensify the pleasure/pain mix. It was strenuous, rigorous, and overwhelming in ways a rich girl in a mansion rarely experienced. Between that intense experience and the added kink behind it, Jennifer achieved orgasm in record time.

“I…I’m…coming!” she gasped, her words muffled by the wall.

“Already?” grunted Michael, sounding humored. “You kinky…pampered…slut!”

Jennifer barely heard him as she crossed that special threshold where the pleasure vastly overshadowed the pain. In an instant, he knees buckled and her lower back arched as she absorbed her sexual release. Michael even had to slow his rapid humping due to the intense throbbing of her inner muscles.

It was so sharp and intense, hitting with a shock rather than a wave. It was a raw, chaotic kind of pleasure that ignited every nerve and sent her mind spiraling like a whirlwind. Being an attractive rich girl, Jennifer had access to all kinds of sex growing up, but few lovers dared to push her out of fear from her father’s wrath. Those brave few, like Michael, made her work for that special level of ecstasy, which made it all the more enjoyable.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Michael warned her as she lingered in her orgasmic state. “You just gave me a reason to step up my efforts!”

While Jennifer was still catching her breath, the imposing man withdrew from her briefly and pulled back from the wall. He then pushed her down to cold floor of the shower that the maid’s hadn’t cleaned in nearly a week.

“On your hands and knees,” Michael told her.

Despite her dazed state, Jennifer still managed to comply. She got on all fours, her head partially on the floor with her butt pointed up at the powerful man before her. He soon joined her on the floor, giving her butt a few hard smacks. He then guided his dick back towards her dripping-wet entrance, but instead of her pussy, he pressed the tip up against her ass.

“If that approach is too easy for you,” Michael said mischievously, “maybe this one will be more challenging.”

Without no further warning and little hesitation, he pushed his cock into her ass, penetrating her once more and sending a fresh shock through her body. Whereas the overwhelming pleasure of orgasm had dominated before, the pain of a different kind of penetration helped re-establish the balance.

“Oohhh!” Jennifer moaned. “My…my butt.”

“Take the pain, rich girl! Take it!” Michael said through labored grunts.

The former marine went to work proving his point, re-establishing the same heated sexual rhythm he’d established earlier. With both feet planted firmly on the floor, both hands firmly on her hips for leverage, he rapidly pumped his cock into her ass. Jennifer, her face still pressed against the floor while her polished nails scratched along the dirty surface, just moaned and gasped from the feeling.

It was intense in a different, but similar way from before. Jennifer didn’t do anal sex often, but when she did, it offered the greatest challenge and the greatest rewards. There was more discomfort, but there was also more ecstasy in the final payoff. It required more effort and pain tolerance. For the kind of payoff she wanted, Jennifer was willing to put in that work.

“So hard…so rough,” she grunted in between Michael’s fervent movements.

“Ohhh yeah!” Michael seethed. “I know…how much…you love it.”

More moans and grunts echoed throughout the shower. More sweat formed on her skin. Every breath became labored and every motion came with great strain. With that strain, though, came a unique rush. It went beyond any sensation of pleasure. For Jennifer, it evoked a unique feeling that went beyond work, sex, and ecstasy.

On an unwashed shower floor, naked and vulnerable where her wealth couldn’t protect her, she toiled and struggled to get what she wanted. She endured a kind of hardship that her parents hadn’t allowed. It was as revealing as it was kinky, but it also had a twisted logic to it. By straining and struggling, the feelings she achieved were more meaningful.

“Rigor…sweat…pain…and pleasure,” Jennifer said as her body rocked to Michael’s ravaging. “I want it. I…I feel it.”

Through the imposing man’s relentless movements, the pain gave way to the pleasure. The discomfort morphed into ecstasy. From those rough, vigorous movements, Jennifer achieved another orgasm.

Unlike the first one, Michael didn’t slow down. He just kept pounding into her in pursuit of his own peak. She doubted he noticed her climaxing again. All she got out was a muffled gasp as her body shuddered under the weight of intense pleasure and heavy strain. It was the ultimate manifestation of that potent mixture of pain and pleasure, creating that powerful feeling that she found so uniquely satisfying.

As the intense sensations rendered her dazed, Michael finally approached his climax as well. She could hear him seething with every movement, throwing in a swat of her butt and a quick squeeze of her breast as he approached the threshold.

“Almost…there!” he grunted. “Going to…come…soon!”

Jennifer kept enduring, even after the orgasmic rush had passed. Her world kept rocking, her body moving sharply in conjunction with each thrust. Finally, Michael tasted the fruits of his hard labor as well.

Upon steading his hips, he let out a deep, masculine moan that filled the bathroom as he released his load into her. Jennifer could feel his member throbbing intensely, his grip on her naked flesh tensing in conjunction with his release. Being a former marine, he valued such intense exertion greater than most. It made him a good personal trainer for the family, but it made him an even better lover.

“Such hard, sweaty work,” Jennifer said with a content purr.

“It’s a…a beautiful thing. Isn’t it?” Michael said, still short of breath.

“Indeed, it is.”

The job was complete. They both got what they’d worked for. Michael, now covered in sweat, withdrew his cock from her ass and rose up. She remained on the dirty floor, rolling over and sitting with her back against the wall as she caught her breath.

Looking up, she saw a very different man than the one who had been fucking her ass just a few moments ago. Beyond being short of breath and very satisfied, he was smiling. The intense aggression with which he had pursued their laborious sex had faded and rightly so. Like her, their worked hard and it paid off.

To some extent, the ecstasy they shared reflected that family motto of rigor and sweat. She doubted her father intended it to have such a kinky connotation, but there was no getting around the results.

“I’ll turn the shower on,” he told her. “Take all the time you need. I’ll duck into one of the guest rooms.”

“I’ll be okay, Michael,” she said, smiling back. “Thank you…for challenging me in just the way I needed.”

“Thank you for putting in more effort than your brothers.”

“One of us had to,” Jennifer said proudly. “At some point, though, we’ll have to let them know that our workouts involve more than just weight training.”

“Only if we leave out the part where the woman I love enjoys getting ravaged,” he added.

“Only if you don’t tell them just how much you love ravaging me,” she quipped.

“That’s going to be hard.”

“I know,” Jennifer said, “but I’m a Rashad. Whether it’s love or hard fucking, we don’t shy away from rigor and sweat!”

Leave a comment

Filed under Sexy Short Story, Uncategorized