Tag Archives: Jack Fisher Blog

Daily Sexy Musings: Lazy Saturday Loving

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Who doesn’t love a lazy Saturday? You know the ones I’m talking about. They’re those rare days where you go out of your way to clear your schedule, finish every errand, and make damn sure you have nothing major to worry about.

Ever since grade school, I’ve had a special appreciation for those days. It might have been because I was such an overly-stressed grade-grubber with self-esteem issues, but that’s beside the point. I still loved lazy Saturdays back then. I love them now, but as an adult, they’ve gained a sexier dimension.

I don’t deny that healthy, sexy romances take work. In fact, it takes a lot of work, physically and emotionally. That’s exactly why it’s important to set some time aside to enjoy the fruits of all that labor. A lazy Saturday is a perfect venue for that. For that reason, and plenty others, I dedicate this Daily Sexy Musing to the sexiest part of lazy Saturdays. Enjoy!

We turn the alarm off.

We silence our phones.

We lock the doors.

Free of distractions and unburdened of chores, this day is ours. We work and toiled all week to carve this special time for ourselves, a single day in which there are no distractions or deadlines to consume our lives. There’s just us, together on our own terms.

We don’t put on fancy clothes. Anything more formal than a pair of underwear is optional, at most. You and I don’t even need clothes for this day. We’re free to cut loose and run wild. There’s no one to impress, no image to maintain. It’s just us and our love, a feeling we can celebrate on our terms.

As we lay in bed, we marvel at the hour. The sun has been up for hours. For once, we’re not out and about, completing one task and lamenting over the next. There’s no commute to endure or gathering to attend. It’s so jarring, but in the best possible way.

I can just be me.

You can just be you.

We can just be us.

On a whim, we embrace. There’s no big setup, fancy clothes, or elaborate spectacle. We just hold each other, bed hair and all. We kiss, conveying as much energy as necessary and not a fraction more. We ditch what little clothes we have on. We make love under the sheets, simple and basic.

In that moment, everything is raw and unrefined. There are no obstacles to overcome or challenges to navigate. We just do what comes naturally and what’s more natural than our love? Whether felt or expressed, it’s so real on this day. That’s when it truly dawns on us.

We can make love multiple times.

We can sleep in for hours on end.

We can loft lazily on the couch, watching whatever we please.

The options are limitless, but there’s no pressure to choose. There’s no schedule to keep. We just do what we wish, guided only by whim and impulse. It’s not just a passing moment in between daily stresses. It’s an entire day for us and only us.

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The following is a review I wrote for PopMatters on Uncanny X-men #1. Enjoy!

An Uncanny Deconstruction of Superheroes in ‘Uncanny X-men #1’

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November 15, 2018 · 10:09 pm

Daily Sexy Musing: Verbal Foreplay

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I don’t consider myself a flirting expert, nor do I think very highly of the pick-up artist community. The idea of just bullshitting someone into sleeping with you doesn’t really sit well with me. Other than being unromantic, it comes off as the shallowest kind of intimacy. Sure, there’s a place for that sort of thing, but it doesn’t deserve to be glorified.

I’m still a big fan of using words as a catalyst for intimacy. I’m not just talking about the lurid dirty talk that often finds its way into my novels and sexy short stories. I genuinely believe that there’s an art to saying just the right thing in just the right way to turn a tender moment into something extra sexy. It’s not easy knowing how or when to say it, but when it works, it’s downright magical.

There have been only a handful of incidence where I can say with a straight face that I aroused a woman with my words. Those were amazing moments, though. I genuinely hope the women felt the same way. They helped affirm the power of sexy words and saying in just the right way.

The following Daily Sexy Musing is a tribute to how powerful that kind of sexy rhetoric can be. Regardless of gender or circumstances, it can turn a tiny spark into a passionate flame. You don’t need the wit of Shakespeare. You just need a willingness to turn sexy thoughts into sexier words. Enjoy!

I wait for a brief silence. In the chaos that is our lives, they don’t come by often. That makes every opportunity more precious and I intend to embrace every one of them. I need only you, me, and a quiet place where you can hear my voice above a whisper.

We’ve found just the right moment.

We’re in just the right place.

We have a chance to share illicit sentiment and I’m taking it.

I lean in and talk right into your ear. My tone is barely above a whisper, soft and direct so that there is no ambiguity. I leave nothing to chance. I make abundantly clear all the lurid things I want to do with you. Are you bold enough to handle that sentiment?

I say what needs to be said, unfiltered and uncensored. I await your reaction. I see you tense and I hear you gasp. I also notice your legs shifting, as though I struck just the right chord in your intimate anatomy. You try to hide it, but you don’t try very hard. You let me see your reaction. It says so much without a single word.

You turn and look at me. At first, you’re aghast. Moments later, you’re intrigued. Your expression changes. Gone is the look of innocence and restraint. In your eyes, I see the shackles come off. Your heart and your loins are freed. My words didn’t just pick the lock. It shattered every link on the chain.

You dive eagerly into my grasp.

You whisper devious musings into my ear.

You take my luscious verbiage and turn it against me.

Suddenly, the same chords are struck. Body, mind, and heart go in different directions, but make their way to the same destination. Our words provoke actions. Our actions inform passions. Those passions bring out the extremes of love, lust, and everything in between.

I offer more amorous rhetoric. You respond in kind. Like gusts of wind fueling a firestorm, it drives us to the highest peaks of desire. We don’t just remove our clothes. We rip them off. We don’t just caress one another. Together, we plunge into a sea of depthless desire.

All it took was a few words.

All it took was a distinct tone.

From our voice, the greatest acts of love and desire manifest before us.

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“Veteran Vixens” A Sexy Short Story For Veteran’s Day

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote in honor of Veteran’s Day. I have veterans in my family and I’ve come to know plenty throughout my life. They are special souls and this story is dedicated to them. Enjoy!

“Veterans Day,” said former army grunt Matthew Antos, “a day I guess I’m supposed to look forward to. I guess that also means I should be happy for all the parades, salutes, and PSAs. And yet…”

He let his words trail off as he gazed out the window of his Washington DC hotel, watching as parade streets were cordoned off in anticipation of the big parade that afternoon. In a few hours, he was scheduled to don his army uniform and march with his old unit down the street, waving to cheering crowds praising them for their service. That was the public spectacle of Veterans Day. In private, however, things weren’t always so honorable.

Matthew had debated whether he should even show up. He’d been discharged from the army three months ago after serving for three years. He’d spent time overseas, making his way through a number of war zones and living the rigid life of a military man. That meant playing by the rules, serving his country, and being a hardened soldier. He did all of that in hopes of achieving more, but he didn’t expect to lose so much along the way.

“What’s wrong with me?” Matthew asked himself. “I put in the time. I did my part. I came back in one piece, despite getting yelled at, shot at, and beaten up a few times. Why do I still feel so…numb to it all?”

He’d been asking himself that question since he got home. It had kept him up at night, so much so that he suffered frequent insomnia. It was almost easier when he’d been recovering from a shrapnel wound he endured a couple years ago. At least with that, he knew the cause of the discomfort. He knew how to tough it out. That was what soldiers did.

After coming home, nothing was that simple and it bugged the hell out of him. Ironically, he’d left his home initially because it was too simple. His parents didn’t have the money to send him to college, his grades hadn’t been that great, and he wasn’t able to get a scholarship. His uncle, a former marine, sold him on joining the military. Given all the benefits that came with dutiful service, it seemed like the best decision he could’ve made.

What his uncle didn’t tell him, however, was how hard it was to get back to civilian life once the guns stopped firing and the drill instructors stopped yelling. He also didn’t mention the price soldiers paid when serving. By being away, doing their duty, they couldn’t be there for friends, family, and loved ones. It was a tough price, but Matthew learned the hard way how hard it could be.

“Dale…Jenny…Reggie…Sybil,” he said.

Those were just some of the names of old friends who had died since he joined. They had been among those who waved goodbye and smiled when he left. Now, they were gone and he wasn’t even there for their funeral.

“Darren…Joey…Mac…Alvin,” Matt continued.

Those names were even harder to say. They were some of the fellow soldiers he’d met during his time in the service. He’d grown close to them. However, they weren’t going to be joining him on the parade. That was because they paid the ultimate price for their service. Some had wives, kids, and families. He didn’t and that just wasn’t fair on any level.

Recalling those names and the faces behind them were painful enough. However, in particular stung the most.

“Mom,” he said, his voice finally cracking.

Swallowing a hard lump of sorrow, Matthew turned away from the window and sat down at the foot of his bed. Swearing only a pair of dirty jeans, he buried his face in his hands as he tried to shut out the pain that hurt more than any shrapnel wound.

It was an unflattering act for a battle-hardened soldier, fighting off tears. Being a soldier meant holding them back, no matter how much it pained him. He’d been lying in a hospital bed, getting an IV drip when his commanding officer dropped by to give him the news. His mother had passed away after getting injured in a traffic accident.

There was nothing he could’ve done. There was no way to change it. Had he been there, he probably would’ve been in the car with her and died by her side. Instead, he’d been serving overseas, protecting his country while the life he’d built within it just fell apart without him. Everything just became so detached.

On one hand, he was held up as a good soldier so served his country honorable. On the other, he was a stranger in his own home town again. The people he loved were gone. The life he left behind was no more. He had no other skills beyond what the army had taught him. He’d never felt so alone before.

Even so, Matthew was expected to put on a strong face that afternoon and lead the parade. Even the trained soldier in him wasn’t sure he could pull it off.

“I’m supposed to be stronger than this,” Matt told himself. “Hell, this whole day is for vets like me! The whole country wants to thank me, but I still feel so goddamn alone.”

The former army grunt looked at his uniform, which he’d neatly folded on a chair. At some point, he was going to have to put it on. He was going to have to pretend that he felt so welcome and honored by the country he loved. He just wished he didn’t have to pretend.

As Matthew lamented over the conflict raging within, he heard a knock at his hotel door. The soldier in him reacted quickly. He didn’t remember calling one of his old squad mates or ordering room service. Curious, he got up and answered.

“Who’s there?” he called out.

“A proud volunteer for Veteran Vixens!” a female voice said from the other side.

“Veteran Vixens? What the hell is that?”

Curious, and a little annoyed, Matthew opened the door to see an unexpected sight. Standing right there in front of him was a beautiful young woman wearing camouflage pants, a tight-fitting green T-shirt, and black boots. At first, he thought she was one of the female soldiers set to attend the parade, but quickly ruled that out because she wore way too much makeup and did not stand like a trained soldier.

However, she definitely carried herself like someone on a mission.

“Hello former Private Matthew Antos,” the woman greeted. “My name is Angela Maxwell. I’m the proud daughter of a marine and a major supporter of Veteran Vixens.”

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew said, “but I’m still waiting to hear what that is and why you’re at my hotel room.”

“I’m here alongside other proud volunteers. You see, we at Veteran Vixens believe in honoring our nation’s veterans, especially in Veteran’s Day. However, we don’t believe that just throwing them a parade is sufficient. We feel our brave men in uniform deserve a more direct form of appreciation.”

The young woman’s voice took on a distinctly seductive tone. She then took a step closer, cast him a playful smile, and lightly pawed his exposed upper body. It caught Matt by surprise, but he didn’t object. If anything, her warm touch gave him some much-needed soothing. He might not have been a good student in high school, but he could already see where she was going.

“Well, soldier…mind if I come in?” Angela asked.

“Um…sure,” Matt said on instinct, his mind already racing.

He led her into his room. She then closed the door behind her, but not before putting the “do not disturb” tag on the knob. It left even less ambiguity behind her intentions, but that only raised more questions.

“Please tell me you’re not some elaborate prank from my squad,” Matt said. “I don’t think I can handle that crap on a day like this.”

“Relax,” Angela assured him, “they didn’t send me. However, one of your old officers told our organization that you were a veteran in need.”

“It can’t have been Sergeant Mixon. He’s the only officer who knows me well enough, but there’s no way the same hard-ass who made me do 100 push-ups at a time sent a beautiful woman to my hotel room on Veteran’s Day.”

“It was him,” she said curtly, “and when he told me what you’d been through the past few years, I jumped at the chance to thank you.”

“I’m still having a hard time believing that…or that this Veteran Vixens is even a thing.”

“I assure you it’s very real. It’s also exactly what you think it is…and then some.”

Her voice got even more seductive. Then, before they even left the foyer, she affectionately pulled him into a light embrace. It left Matt stunned and frozen in place, but in a good way. It had been a while since he’d experienced that kind of intimate touch. Having been living in barracks full of men for years, it was a nice change of pace, among other things.

As she embraced him, he saw a sexy, yet genuine intent in her eyes. It was like she could see the wounds and scars that were so unique to veterans. It helped convince him that she wasn’t just some pretty girl his squad mates had paid to mess with him. She was serious about helping a veteran in need and not just with a simple salute.

“We at Veteran Vixens have a simple philosophy,” Angela said while trailing her hand over the sinews of his chest. “An honorable soldier deserves more than basic platitudes on a day like this.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Matt pointed out.

“Except, we seek to provide something more intimate to show gratitude,” she went on. “Many of us are the daughters, sisters, cousins, and friends of such soldiers. As such, we have more incentive than most to offer that kind of gratitude.”

“And just what kind are we talking about here?” he asked, as though it weren’t obvious enough.

Angela grinned playfully. Then, just as her soft fingers had finished tracing over his chest, she broke the embrace and stepped back towards the bed. Once in the center of the room, the beautiful young woman stripped out of her clothes. She wasn’t casual about it, either. She took them off as though she were a stripper giving him a private show.

Matt, still frozen, remained in the foyer as he gazed in awe at the spectacle before him. That generic military garb she’d been wearing hid a very feminine, very sexy body. She hadn’t even been wearing a bra when she took off her shirt, her well-developed breasts tumbling out with ease. He couldn’t even tell if she’d been wearing panties, either. As soon as she slipped out of her camouflage pants, she stood completely naked.

He must have looked very undisciplined, especially for a soldier, gawking at a beautiful naked woman. Angela didn’t seem to mind, though. She even seemed to pose a little, making it so he had a perfect view of her breasts, legs, and hips. She made no effort to hide her beauty as she casually sat down on the bed and lightly spread her legs, revealing her unobstructed womanhood.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” Matt said in a daze, “and I’m not just saying that as a man who lived in an all-male barracks for over three years.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Angela said with a snicker. “I’m also sure you and your fellow vets didn’t get many changes for friendly female company while serving.”

“That’s both accurate and necessary, to some extent.”

“Well, you’re not in a war zone anymore. You’re not on duty or in basic training. You’re a veteran on Veteran’s Day…one who happens to be alone and struggling.”

“Something else I’m sure Sergeant Mixon told you,” Matt said. “How much else did he tell you?”

“Enough to know you’ve had it rough since coming home. There’s only so much anyone can do to make it easier for a veteran, but pretty girls like me…girls who happen to have a thing for strapping young vets in need of comfort…we can do more than most.”

She then scooted back on the bed, leaning on one arm and while gesturing towards him with the other. It was not an act of temptation at that point. It was an invitation.

“Come,” Angela offered, “as a participant in Veteran Vixens, I offer myself too you completely. Consider me some well-earned, much-needed, all-American pussy on behalf of those who appreciate your service!”

“That sounds so crazy, but makes so much fucking sense,” Matt said.

“Then, what are you waiting for, soldier boy? Get those pants off so we can start appreciating!”

Soldiers trying to re-enter civilian life often faced an existential crisis whenever their time with the military ended. It often left them in a conflicted state and there weren’t many forces in the world that could jar them from it. A beautiful naked woman, offering unfretted sex, was one of the few.

At that moment, Matthew Antos remembered that he wasn’t just a former soldier trying to make sense of his post-military life. He was also a healthy young heterosexual man who had not been laid since his ex-girlfriend broke up with him during a video chat two years ago. His mind and spirit might be damaged, but his dick still worked.

“Fuck, that’s the best order I’ve gotten in years!” he said, finally cracking a smile for the first time in weeks.

With energy that would’ve crushed any basic training course, Matthew shed his pants and underwear. He didn’t bother hiding the scars from the shrapnel wound on his abdomen. He didn’t care that he hadn’t shaved in over a week, either. As far as he was concerned, the universe just threw him a life preserver. He had been close to just losing it and here was a beautiful woman who wanted to help him. Who was he to refuse?

“Looks like someone aced his training regime,” Angela commented, her eyes narrowing on his athletic frame.

“Being fit is just part of being capable,” Matt said as he eagerly climbed onto the bed with her.

“Is that something you guys say in the army?”

“No. It’s just basic logistics.”

As if to demonstrate those capabilities, Matthew got on top of the woman and wrapped her in his powerful arms. He then smothered her face, neck, and cleavage with his lips, tasting her womanly flesh as though it were his favorite desert. He wasn’t gentle or careful. He was a soldier. Neither a battlefield nor a beautiful woman intimidated him. He wasn’t just willing to embrace her. He was willing to take her fully, as only a veteran could.

“Oohhh! What a good soldier!” Angela cooed.

“That turn you on?” he said in an assertive, soldier-like tone. “Does a horny, restless vet make you wet?”

“Hell yeah!”

She could’ve just been saying that, but body language didn’t lie. The way she dug her nails into his shoulder and grinded her hips against his revealed the truth. She really was getting horny. Matt could already feel the heat radiating from her inner thighs.

Seeking to build his own arousal, the eager veteran continued making out with her. He kissed and caressed her naked body while she pawed his manly sinews. As their bodies became more acquainted, years of pent up sexual energy quickly caught up with him. His dick got fully erect faster than he thought possible. Either he was really that horny or he’d been that deprived of intimate contact.

Whatever the reason, he didn’t intend to linger. As much as he loved making out with a naked woman, he had a more pressing mission at hand. After thoroughly tasting her lips one last time, he rose up, grabbed hold her thighs, and hitched her legs over her shoulder.

“This is just the soldier in me,” he said, “but permission to enter.”

“Permission granted!” Angela said.

It was official. Veterans really did turn her on. Not one to deny a beautiful woman the soldier dick she loved, Matt aligned his member with her wet entrance and thrust into her. As soon as he felt that hot, tight flesh around his manhood, it was ecstasy in its rawest form.

“Ohhh yeah!” the hardened soldier moaned, “that feels…so good.”

“That’s it, soldier. Enjoy that hot pussy!” Angela purred.

Treating that as an order from his old drill sergeant, Matt proceed to vent years of pent up desire and frustration. He tightened his hold on her thighs, dug his feet and knees into the bed, and moved his hips in a steady procession of rhythmic thrusting. Through every motion, his rigid cock slithered in her tight folds. Hard masculine muscles meshed with smooth womanly curves. As their naked bodies rocked, more intimate ecstasy followed.

It was like diving into a pool after running a marathon through a desert.

It was like reconnecting with a feeling that had been blocked off by impenetrable barriers.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel so detached from the world. He was connecting with it again, literally and figuratively. His gaze never diverted from the woman under him, watching as she moaned and beamed with delight as he humped her. She already had the look of a soldier who’d just fulfilled a mission. For her, giving a distressed veteran sex was uniquely fulfilling. Something about that just felt right.

“Oh yes! Oohhh yes!” Angela moaned. “Like that! Fuck me like that!”

“You mean…like…this?” he grunted, thrusting extra hard while pushing her legs further apart.

“Yes! Fuck me like a true veteran! Make me come!”

She already sounded close to orgasm. Matthew stepped up the sexual rhythm, rocking her body and the bed even harder. She ended up being closer than he’d thought. She climaxed on the spot, curling her toes and throwing her head back as her inner muscles throbbed in accord with her release.

It was a beautiful sight, an all-American girl having an orgasm at the hands of him, an American veteran. Everything he fought and sacrificed for took a tangible form. It was also pretty audible as well. Angela was quite vocal in an orgasmic state.

“OHHH YES!”

Matthew grinned at the spectacle before him, slowing his motions for a moment to take it all in. However, he didn’t linger for long. He remembered he wanted a release as well. While Angela bathed in her euphoric state, he dug his feet and knees into the bed even harder as he pushed towards his own release.

“Angela…I’m close too!” he grunted. “I’m going to…come!”

“Go on, soldier,” she purred. “Fill me with that veteran cum.”

Not needing an order for once, Matt delivered the last round of humps to send him over the edge. When the feeling hit, it wasn’t just an overdue sexual release. It was like an old burden crumbling to dust around him, replaced with unhindered ecstasy and bliss.

Battle hardened muscles tensed.

Skin that had been dirtied by battle burned hot with desire.

Body parts that had not been used much lately went into overdrive.

Under the refreshing wave of his release, the hardened soldier let out a moan of contentment as he achieved orgasm. Throbbing flesh met with throbbing flesh as his manly juices mixed with hers. Pleasure, relief, and intimate connection became real and tangible. That lonely, distant feeling that plagued him early suddenly didn’t seem so pressing.

“You’re a damn good soldier,” said Angela, still beaming with post-orgasmic delight, “a damn good soldier, indeed.”

As Matthrew soaked in the feeling, she caressed his unshaven face and kissed him. Like a reflex, he kissed back. In the process, he withdrew his manhood from her and laid down next to her. He kept her naked body in his arms, the intimate contact still providing relief beyond that of a sexual release. She clung to him as well, pawing his chest as if to wipe away his distress.

As he laid with such a beautiful woman, Matt found himself recall the names of the people he’d lost and the world he’d lost since joining. The pain was still there, but there was now something else to counter it. Instead of agonizing over the past he’d missed, he looked towards a more promising future.

“I needed this…so bad,” Matt said, still breathless.

“I can tell.”

“I don’t think you understand the full story, Angela,” he said in a more serious tone. “Before you showed up, I was on the brink. I…wasn’t sure of my place in this world anymore. I’m a soldier. I served my country. I came home. And now…”

His words trailed off, still unable to fully process everything he’d agonized over since he returned home. Angela curled up closer to him, cupping his face with both hands and gazing into his eyes with the compassion of an angel.

“You feel lost,” she told him. “You’re a soldier. You worked, trained, and fought so hard that it’s part of who you are. Not being a soldier at this point…and everything else that comes with it…that’s a lot to deal with.”

“Sounds like you’re intimately familiar with men like me,” he pointed out.

“If you’re wondering whether I’ve had sex with other vets, then stop wondering. Every girl at Veteran Vixens has plenty of experience with veteran-brand pillow talk.”

“Sorry if mine sounds routine,” he said, “especially since I’m one of the lucky ones. I came back. Some of my squad mates didn’t.”

“That’s a big part of what makes being a veteran so overwhelming. You survived. You fought your battles and made it through. A part of you is still fighting, though. Sometimes, you need something to let you know it’s okay to stop…that it’s okay to reconnect.”

It made so much sense. Then again, a lot of crazy things made sense after having sex with a beautiful woman. Could it really that simple? Could the key to confronting the emptiness and uncertainty that had plagued him since he returned home be a simple matter of reconnecting? In that sense, random sex with a beautiful woman counted as a productive first step.

“Reconnect…yeah, I think I can do that,” Matt said with greater confidence. “Thanks for the memorable reminder, Angela.”

“That’s what we at Veteran Vixens do,” she said proudly. “It’s hard enough adapting to civilian life again. Nothing seems nearly as hard after getting laid.”

“Which is why it’s my new favorite veterans charity!”

“Good to hear,” she laughed.

Angela kissed him again, still keeping her naked body close to his. Matt eagerly returned the kiss. Embracing her felt like embracing the world again. It gave him renewed confidence and strength, which he planned to use for the parade later that afternoon.

He still had some time to prepare. Luckily for him, the kiss between him and Angela quickly turned into another make-out session. At some point, she rolled over on top of him while he rolled onto his back. The next thing Matt knew, he was looking up at a naked woman straddling his waist with a lustful, yet affectionate glint in her eyes.

“In keeping with the spirit of Veteran Vixens, I can stick around a bit longer if you want,” she said curtly.

“I’d like that,” Matt said while smiling back.

“I can also suck your dick, get you hard again, and then ride it hard until we come again.”

“I’d like that even more.”

“Great!” she said, already sounding excited. “Because when it comes to honoring our troops on Veterans Day, we at Veteran Vixens like to go the extra mile!”

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Manly Chest Hair Edition

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What is it about manly chest hair that’s so sexy? Actually, a better question might be why the sex appeal of chest hair is so mixed? Men have more body hair. That’s just basic human biology. It has a pragmatic, albeit limited function. We don’t have enough of it to keep us as warm as a polar bear, but it still has a unique aesthetic.

Like breasts on women, chest hair is one of those distinguishing male features that denotes raw masculinity. Most men don’t emphasize it as much as women do with their breasts. Then again, very few features can ever hope to match the sex appeal of female breasts. That doesn’t mean chest hair can’t have a place in the sexual landscape.

I’ve had chest hair since I was 16. I come from a long line of men in my family who have hairy chests. Some family members even take pride in it. The women they’re with don’t hide their appreciation of it. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate the manliness my chest hair conveys and I think it’s worth appreciating even more.

For this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts, I’d like to celebrate this underrated sexual trait. It does more than just distinguish men from women or offer some extra warmth in the winter. It adds a unique kind of sexiness to a world rich in sex appeal. Not everyone finds it sexy, but for those that do will always be a little warmer on cold nights.


“A bad date that ends in sex will always be more memorable than a good date that ends in a kiss.”


“Lovemaking can easily turn into fucking, but it’s much harder to do the other way around.”


“When you think about it, mirrors tell us just how much we want to fuck ourselves.”


“The appeal of anal sex changes considerably after a woman has given birth.”


“Love is just a more refined and focused version of being horny.”


“Historically speaking, humping is the second oldest form of exercise after running.”


“Puberty is just your body’s way of letting you know it’ll be fucking with you for the rest of your life.”


For those who find inherent sex appeal in chest hair, the colder weather in the coming months should help vindicate you. Hairy chest hair is one of those traits that tends to have a very targeted sex appeal. Some genuinely don’t care for it. Some find it sexier than Ron Swanson covered in bacon grease. As winter draws near, I believe those men who value their chest hair will once again make their case.

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The following is a review I wrote for PopMatters for X-23 #6. Enjoy!

Class, Clones, and Killer Robots in Marvel Comics’ ‘X-23 #6’

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November 8, 2018 · 5:02 pm

Movember Memories: Recounting The Time I Let My Beard Grow For Three Months

Close up man 's face with a beard and mustache

Greetings, and a very happy Movember to everyone. What is Movember, you ask? It’s not a holiday, a new social movement, or some exciting business opportunity that requires your credit card number. It’s actually an engaging, month-long event that helps raise awareness for objectively good causes.

Specifically, those causes involve serious issues affecting men, such as prostate cancer, testicular cancer, and suicide. In the same way Breast Cancer Awareness Month brings attention to a serious health issue that affects women, Movember does something similar for men. However, participating involves more than just talking about these issues.

Men who participate in this effort show their support by growing mustaches. For an entire month, they channel their inner Ron Swanson to show support for those affected by this issue. It may not seem like much, but it has had a positive impact. In 2012, the Movember Foundation raised $95 million dollars. Also, like Ron Swanson, it demonstrates the power of the mustache.

If you haven’t already, please consider donating to the Movember Foundation. Whether you’re liberal, conservative, feminist, libertarian, socialist, communist, or even an anarchist, it’s a great cause that helps a lot of people. I know gender politics is very heated these days, but providing support to those who need it should not be controversial.

In the spirit of Movember, I’d like to share a personal story that I think is fitting for this cause. It has to do with me and my relationship to facial hair. It’s something nearly every man has to deal with as they grow up. Everyone goes about it their own way. Some have to figure out the hard way that there’s a right and wrong way to manage it.

That’s exactly what I had to go through one fateful fall during my first semester of college. It was an exciting time. The nightmare that was high school was over. My acne problem had finally passed. I had been accepted into my top choice school. I finally had a chance to live on my own and get a taste of real independence. These were exciting times, indeed.

I celebrated that independence in many ways, but one of the first was that I stopped shaving entirely. For me, that was a big deal because I liked letting my facial hair grow. At first, it was just a good way for me to cover my acne. After a while, I just liked the way it made me look. Like my father and uncles, facial hair made me look distinctly masculine. It also gave me some badly-needed confidence.

While living at home, my mother often made me shave or trim my beard. Usually, she wouldn’t let me go more than two weeks without some kind of trim. I understand why she did it, but I still wanted to develop my own manly look. In college, I got that chance and I took it.

For three straight months, I did not shave. I didn’t use any blades, clippers, or trimmers. I just let my beard grow. Compared to all the other crazy things I could’ve done during my first semester in college, it was pretty tame. For me, though, it was a genuine thrill because I got to decide for myself how I wanted to look.

As a result, I learned a lot of important lessons about facial hair. For one, it can get dandruff. That actually became an issue at one point. It wasn’t enough to make me shave it, but after about two months, I had to actually put shampoo in my beard to keep the dandruff from getting too bad.

The next thing I notices is that when food gets caught in it, you tend not to notice until hours later. When a good chunk of your diet consists of noodles and cafeteria food, that is somewhat of an issue. One time, I got a box of buffalo wings for a football game. It got so messy that there were sauce stains in my beard for the rest of the day. Considering how much I love that smell, I didn’t see that as a bad thing.

Then, the weather got cold and I learned something else about having a thick beard. It will freeze up in a cold rain. A week before Thanksgiving, some freezing rain hit the area and I actually felt miniature icicles form in my beard. It was a weird feeling, but I didn’t see it as a detriment.

Shortly after that, though, I finally caved and trimmed it. I didn’t shave all of it off. I just trimmed it. My reason for doing so had less to do with the effects of the hair and more to do with the overall look it gave me. In addition to not shaving my beard, I didn’t cut my hair either. In doing so, I learned that unkempt hair over my entire face just wasn’t a good look for me.

I won’t say I looked bad. I’ll just say that I looked a bit too much like a first-year college student who enjoyed not being told when to shave. At one point, I looked like a crazed mountain man who lived in a cabin without running water. You can get away with that look in college. In the professional world, however, it’s a bit tougher.

After trimming it for Thanksgiving, I finally got into the habit of trimming it regularly. For a while, I just trimmed it with clippers every two weeks. Eventually, I got around to actually shaving parts of it. At one point, I did shave all of it off, but that did not look good on me. By the time I graduated college, I found a look that I embraced.

Currently, I maintain a healthy patch of facial hair that I try to keep trim. I haven’t let my beard grow that much in a long time. For Movember, though, I occasionally let my mustache get extra thick. I think it looks good on me and it helps me convey the kind of masculinity I want.

I don’t know if I’ll ever let my beard grow that thick again. Maybe at some point down the line, I’ll give it another shot. It may look better on me now than it did in college. If I do, I’ll be sure to share the results.

In the meantime, I encourage everyone to participate or contribute to Movember. Again, please take some time to donate to the Movember Foundation. There are serious male issues worth confronting. You don’t have to grow a thick beard like I did. You just have to let your manly mustache do the talking.

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Daily Sexy Musings: Date Night

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When it comes to the concept of date night, people tend to have mixed feelings. I know people who roll their eyes at the idea of a couple scheduling, especially if they’re already together or have been married. To them, the purpose of dating is to find out if someone is romantically compatible. I can totally understand this sentiment.

That said, I don’t agree with it. I believe dating has a much broader purpose. I also believe that it’s something couples shouldn’t stop doing, no matter how mature their relationship may be. From what I’ve observed and read over the years, I’ve noticed that good couples never stop dating one another. They never assume the work is done on a relationship and I think that’s a beautiful thing.

The following Daily Sexy Musing is a celebration of that beauty. Regardless of your relationship status, date night can a catalyst for a strong relationship rather than a chore. There’s a right way to do it, a wrong way, and a sexy way. I think I’ve made clear before which one I prefer. Enjoy!

The night is young, but our love is timeless. Once again, we intend to prove that. True love, does not stop and dedication does not cease. I put in the work. You return the favor. Tonight, however, I intend to work overtime.

We clear our schedule.

We purge all distractions.

We take time to make time for another.

We put on our best clothes. I seek from you the admiration I first saw when our eyes met. In you, see a beautiful memory made flesh. The past and the present converge, memories of old passions connecting with new ones. Time may change our bodies, but it only strengthens our hearts.

Before we even leave, we embrace. Like our first date, excitement and anticipation fill the air. In each other, we first found intrigue. In time, we find affirmation. I feel you and I know who you are. From my touch, I let you know who I am. From a simple connection, a complex feeling emerged and evolved.

It didn’t end with our first date.

It didn’t end with our first kiss.

It didn’t end with our first act of lovemaking.

It didn’t end with our hundredth act of lovemaking.

Like the waves of the ocean or the winds in the air, the feeling is ongoing. It shifts and it changes along the way, new conditions bringing new challenges. Together, we navigate and overcome them. Through every triumph, but especially within the failures, our love grows stronger.

On date night, there’s no obstacle to overcome. There are no uncertainties, anxieties, or tensions to resolve. It’s just us, going out into the world to celebrate this feeling we’ve forged. It begins with us dressed in our finest attire. It ends with us shedding that attire, crawling into bed together, and expressing our in its most basic form.

There’s no strict plan to follow. There’s no requirements with which to comply. The only necessity is you and me, us together for one night. We focus only on each other. Every ounce of effort, intent, and passion is channeled for a brief sliver of time within the chaos that is our collective lives.

There’s no stopping us. Together, we leave hand-in-hand and embrace our special time together. Tonight is our night and no one else’s. The world can step aside because there’s no stopping our love.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Back Massage Edition

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Is it possible to request a back massage without it being construed as sexual? Having experienced, witnessed, and even contributed in all kinds lurid innuendo, I won’t say it’s impossible. I’ll just note that it’s extremely improbable, given our collective immaturity when it comes to sexual matters.

That’s a shame too because there are times when we genuinely need a back massage for entirely non-sexual reasons. One of the first jobs I ever had was at a fast food restaurant. At that job, I spent a good deal of time bending over to clean dirt, mud, and even baby vomit on one fateful night. That was murder on my back, as well as my dignity.

I endured long stretches of back problems that only got better after I quit that job. When I was dating my ex-girlfriend, she had her share of soreness too, due to unrelated health issues. Sometimes, giving each other a soothing, non-sexual back massage was genuinely welcome. I would even go so far as to call it incredibly romantic.

There’s always room for the sexier side of massages. However, there’s also a place for the less seamy kind of back massages. They can be sexy without getting too sexual. They can even be gestures of genuine romance. This week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts is dedicated to both. I even encourage every couple out there to try both at some point today. Enjoy!


“Thinking before you act can have very mixed results when you’re really horny.”


“Those who give great oral sex will always have more friends than enemies.”


“When you think about it, an awkward boner is the only reflex that’s actually useful.”


“Women who is physically flexible tend find lovers who are just as flexible in a non-physical way.”


“Make-up sex is the romantic equivalent of tech support for an old computer.”


“In essence, prostitution is paying a premium to skip the small talk before sex.”


“Stories about broken hearts will never be as memorable as those about bruised genitals.”


I hope that helped make everyone’s back feel better, among other things. Massages will always have a sexy connotation and for good reason. Intimate touching usually leads to intimate loving. It’s just physics. When we’re genuinely sore, though, it goes beyond intimacy. It’s downright therapeutic. Whenever you can mix therapy and sex appeal, you know you’ve got something special.

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“My Demon Lover” A Sexy Short Story (For Halloween)

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Greetings, and Happy Halloween! Whether you’re a kid looking for free candy or someone just looking for an excuse to wear a sexy costume, this is your kind of holiday. To help get everyone in the spirit, I wrote a sexy short story. Enjoy!

The most revealing truths were often hidden blow foundations of lore and lies. That was an old saying from the world of demons, witches, and dark magic. From curious dabblers to full-fledged masters, the greatest truths about the dark forces that permeated every shadow came only to those willing to dig deep.

Victoria “Violet” Goodchild embodied that will better than most. For every hundred people who dared to explore the mystic arts, only could hope to uncover that such forces weren’t just real. They could be channeled, summoned, and experienced in a very direct way.

“By the dust of Tartarus…the mists of Elysium…the shadows of Sheol…I summon from the realm of Eurynomos the name that frail maidens dare not speak.”

Those desperate words, echoing with a lust and desire few embraced, echoed throughout the dank basement of Violet’s unassuming home. She’d turned off all the lights. She’d locked the front, back, and emergency door from the inside. Anyone looking from the outside would’ve suspected that she just wasn’t home. For someone like her, a troubled young woman who’d run away from home, it was to be expected.

She’d once been such a sweet, unassuming girl. She was the third of seven children by a preacher and a Sunday School teacher. She’d been surrounded by all the trappings of a strict, religious household. She was the last person anyone expected to delve into the sinister world of the dark arts.

However, Victoria – or Violet, which she’d been going by since high school – didn’t just dip her toe into that world. She dove in head-first.

“Forces of the worlds unseen…the powers untapped…I summon the one to whom I gave my virginity. I summon the one to whom I’ve pledged my blood, my body, and my soul!”

The air throughout the basement became hot and muggy, a sudden shift from the cold and dank ambience it usually offered. The only light came from a series of 13 candles, which had been arranged in a circle atop a red rug that she’d stained with special emblems. Those small flames quickly intensified, as if the air itself had heard her calls and granted more fuel to the fire.

Violet could already sense someone approaching. She couldn’t see, hear, or touch them, but she knew they were there. She’d felt it before. It both her heart and heated her inner thighs. Having already shed her clothes, her naked body covered only by a black robe, she’d no intention of being modest to the approaching presence.

As the air grew hotter, the emblems on the rug began glowing. Such spectacle defied the traditional laws of physics, but they were perfectly in line with the rule of dark magic. Like lights that had been plugged into a great source of power, they filled the room with reddish orange hue. Some of the symbols within the emblems even came to life, the various runes depicting mystical artifacts becoming flushed with power.

From a collection of those runes, a fiery vortex formed in the floor. It was like a hole in the fabric of reality, a crack in the barrier that separated her mundane world from that of magic.

“Yes! Come to me, my demon lover! Come to me, Sylenos!” Violet exclaimed, raising her arms and bathing in the swirling light.

For a moment, the entire basement felt like the worst part of a thunderstorm. A potent blend of wind and heat filled the room, blowing through her loose-fitting robe and brushing over her naked skin. It was as though the mystical forces she sought were caressing her body, teasing her with a bit of mystical foreplay. It further heightened her arousal and lust, ensuring she was prepared for the figure that emerged.

“My dear Violet,” said a deep, demonic voice, “I hear your lecherous cries. I so missed them!”

From the swirling vortex, a being decidedly not of her world emerged. He had a very masculine appearance, over six-and-a-half feet tall with muscular sinews bulging from every inch of flesh. That flesh, however, did not have an entirely human appearance.

It was dark red, radiating a heat that seemed to make every candle burn brighter. There were also no goat legs or animal features. Those were artifacts of ancient fairy tales. Real demons could take many forms, but their most common was that of a human male, complete with functioning male body parts. That included a very large endowment that hung between his legs, one that quickly reacted to her appearance.

“Sylenos,” Violet said, gazing at the demonic figure in awe, “welcome to my domain.”

“Still so formal, I see,” the demonic figure laughed. “After all our encounters, you insist on going through the motions.”

“What can I say? I’m a traditionalist,” she replied with a lurid undertone.

“Did I say I minded?”

Sylenos grinned in a way so befitting of a demon. It was often their most distinguishing trait, the way they captured the gaze of those who saw them. Even with the muscles of a body-builder and the endowment greater than that of any male ego, the face of a demon was their most terrifying and alluring feature.

Violet had seen it many times before. Sylenos’ complexion was extra demonic, bearing fang-like teeth, an extra-rugged complexion, and horns on his forehead that complemented long, unkempt hair. However, it was his eyes that reflected the dark power within, having a deep purple hue that often glowed whenever she gazed into them. That penetrating gaze played a big part what inspired her nickname, Violet. It ended up inspiring much more, as well.

“I always look forward to this day,” Sylenos said as he approached her, “October 31st, the night of All Hallows Eve.”

“So do I,” she said. “It’s the one night were dark forces are celebrated, rather than feared.”

“For someone like, isn’t that redundant?”

“Only to the extent that it gives us an excuse to be together for the night,” Violet quipped.

“That, and a rare alignment of mystical energies.”

“Logistics disguised as semantics,” she shrugged. “Please, my love, allow me to keep being formal.”

The creature laughed again, but did not stop her when she dropped to one knee and bowed her head in a submissive gesture, as was customary for a demonic summoning. She then looked up, both his demonic gaze and his oversized penis looming over her. It was a simple ritual that felt so mundane, but one that reminded her of how far she’d ventured down her dark path.

When she’d first laid eyes on Sylenos, she was a virgin teenager who’d grown frustrated by a world of tradition and piety. She’d felt so trapped. Everyone and everything was so virtuous, idealizing restraint and purity. It was comfortable, but boring. It was, ironically enough, her own personal hell. Escaping it meant walking the opposite path of her peers.

“Sylenos,” she said, her voice full of lust and reference, “creature of the dark realms, born of lust and desire made flesh.”

“I never get tired of hearing that,” he said, “although many of my demon brethren mock me for that.”

Violet grinned, but her demeanor did not falter. She remained determined to affirm her connection to the creature before her, if only to remind herself why it mattered so much.

“You are the one I chose,” Violet said, a touch of affection mixing in with her lust. “I offered myself to one who could sate that which I found insatiable. By the chaotic winds of fate, you chose me to. From that choice, we found each other.”

It almost sounded romantic. To some extent, it was. One of the least known truths about demons had little to do with what they looked like and everything to do with what they embodied. It was for that very reason that Violet’s basic lust evolved into a mature love.

The catalyst for that journey had been crude. At a young age, she discovered something about herself that would’ve been a minor quirk had she not grown up in such a devout community. She was very horny. Whether by fate or a quirk of biology, she was a very sexual woman with very powerful desires.

That put her in directly conflict with everyone in her community, including her parents. It only got worse when they caught her masturbating multiple times and flirting with boys. They tried lecturing her, praying for her, and sending her off to an all-girls school. None of it worked. She ran away the first chance she got.

If anything, the efforts of her family convinced her that a path of virtue and piety was not going to satisfy her desires. That was when she made the fateful choice to explore the opposite side of the holy spectrum. On that journey, she founded more than she’d ever expected. She liked to think she wasn’t the only one, either.

“Are you done, my love?” said a bemused Sylenos.

“That’s the last of the formality. I promise,” she told him.

“Good,” he said. “Then rise up. Don’t stand before me like some mindless adherent. Stand as the unapologetic slut you know you are.”

Laughing to herself at such blunt honesty, she rose back to her feet. Sylenos, still grinning, then grasped the sides of her robe.

“Take this dirty rag off,” he said. “Show me the body we so lovingly forged together.”

Violet gladly complied, letting the robe fall off to expose her nude form to the hulking creature in front of her. He then threw it across the room, as if to tell her that she didn’t have to be modest in the presence of a demon. Given her voluptuous figure, she had nothing to be ashamed of.

Sylenos further demonstrated his admiration, grasping her hips with his powerful demonic hands and trailing them up to her breasts. Already aroused by anticipation, it sent hot shivers coursing through her body.

“Such beauty,” Sylenos said with lecherous affection as he squeezed her fleshy orbs, “you have a face, breasts, and buttocks that would befell an angel.”

“I’m sure that’s the most popular pick-up line in the demon realm,” Violet said, purring under his touch.

“Except, I’m a demon who means it,” he told her. “We’re not always honest, but we are always sincere when it comes to our desires…especially those we help make real.”

The hulking figure drew her deeper into a daze of lust. As he kneaded her breasts with his hands, he leaned in closer and smothered her lips with his. His bulging muscles made contact with her naked flesh, turning lustful desires into burning needs.

Violet then let loose her own demonic passions, returning the kiss of her demon lover while trailing her hands over the rock-hard sinews of his hyper-masculine form. The feeling was not like kissing an ordinary man. Demon flesh was hotter. Demon flesh radiated a unique energy and strength. Some women couldn’t handle it. Violet had learned to handle it better than most.

“My demon lover,” she gasped as he hungrily groped her flesh.

“My mortal whore,” Sylenos said, his eyes glowing brighter as their devious foreplay intensified.

He left no inch of her flesh untouched and no bit of her tongue untasted. Demons were creatures of indulgence, savoring every decadent delight to the utmost. Thanks to the price she had willingly paid years ago, Violet gave him plenty to savor.

When she first encountered Sylenos as a virgin teenager, she wasn’t very attractive. That wasn’t just due to poor self-image, either. She had average looks, at best. Her breasts were undersized, butt was flat, and her face wasn’t exactly worthy of a magazine cover. For someone as horny as her, it was a frustrating situation, to say the least. That changed a simple deal born of selfish desire.

“Big breasts…firm buttocks…luscious lips,” Sylenos seethed as he made out with her, “all mine for the taking!”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. In fact, part of the reason Violet resorted to summoning demons is to make herself more attractive. Since running away, she’d encountered many attractive men that she wanted to sleep with. However, they didn’t find her beautiful. Makeup and exercise only did so much. To get the allure she craved, she needed the touch of a demon.

That was what Sylenos gave her. Before she gave him her virginity, he cast a spell that radically changed her body into a figure that perfectly radiated beauty and sex appeal. It was the first time she’d felt genuinely sexy. After she gave herself to him, she reverted back briefly. However, he told her she could grow into that body, provided she adhered to their deal.

The details were many, but the results were everything she’d hoped for and then some. In just a few years, she became beautiful, attracting men of all kinds and seducing them with ease. Almost overnight, she could have any man she wanted and she wanted a lot. The acts of decadence she indulged in, thanks to her newfound looks, were too many to list.

However, she never strayed from the deal and Sylenos rewarded her accordingly. She liked to think she returned the favor beyond the price she’d paid. Over time, she came to see Halloween as the night where they enjoyed the bonuses that came along with that deal.

“Sylenos…take me,” Violet told him, his hungry touching sending her lust into overdrive.

“Only if you beg,” he replied with a devious leer. “You how much I love to hear your beg.”

“Take me, my love!” she exclaimed without hesitation. “Fuck me! Ravage me! Fill my every hole with your demon cum!”

“Such a dirty mouth…spoken like a true slut.”

“Not just any slut…your slut!”

That always set him off, her talking dirty while in his physical presence. At that moment, the seduction and foreplay ceased. Violet was officially pass the point of no return. She was going to get fucked by a demon.

Using his demonic strength, he lifted her up off the floor and laid her down in the center of the rug. The candles were still burning and the runes were still glowing. Her naked body now surrounded by light, Sylenos hovered over her in a way that gave her a perfect view of his throbbing demon cock.

Unlike ordinary dicks, a demon’s cock needed no stimulation to get hard. It became fully erect with the same ease as flexing a muscle. At full arousal, Sylenos’ cock had a length and girth that put most male porn stars to shame. It always tested the resilience of her womanly flesh, but Violet loved rising to the occasion.

“I’ll give you what you desire, Violet,” he told her.

“And I’ll give you the same,” she replied.

“Mmm…your confidence always astounds me!”

“It’s not confidence, my love. It’s certainly!”

Violet eagerly spread her legs, welcoming his dark flesh into her. Now seething with a lust worthy of a demon, the hulking figure accepted her invitation. He got on top of her, grasping her wrists and pinning them just above her head. Then, with his eyes glowing with the same radiance as the runes beneath them, he thrust his throbbing demon cock into her pussy.

“That dick…that big, demon dick…so deep inside me!” Violet exclaimed.

Sylenos replied only with a lecherous snarl before silencing her with his lips, his slithering tongue swirling around hers as he began fucking her with a fervor that rocked her world and that of demons.

His approach was simple, utilizing the basic missionary position that her pious upbringing glorified for husbands and wives. Sylenos took that standard sexual more and gave it a demonic twist, humping her with reckless abandon, pursuing only raw pleasure rather than holy duty. She was not a faithful housewife, submitting to her husband in hopes of producing more adherents. She was an unrepentant whore, seeking only to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.

“Violet…my sweet, sinful Violet,” Sylenos said in between thrusts. “You make lust…so lovely.”

Violet almost climaxed on the spot. Those intense words in that deep voice of his revealed so much of who she was. It was raw, unfiltered truth, not unlike the raw, unfiltered bliss that came with unrestrained sex.

Instead of restraint, she reveled in indulgence.

Instead of soul, she embraced flesh.

Instead of piety, she pursued hedonism.

That was the cold, hard truth. Violet had accepted that years ago. Whereas her family and friends shamed her, the world of demons encouraged her. Instead of revulsion, Sylenos was drawn to her sinful tendencies. With him, she could be herself. That brought out a pleasure that went beyond the multiple orgasms.

“Oohhh Sylenos!” she moaned. “My demon love…I’m coming! I’m coming!”

“Yes! Come…unrepentant whore!”

As if on command, Violet closed her eyes, curled her toes, and arched her back as a white-hot orgasm coursed through her body. Sylenos barely slowed down his relentless humping, still working his cock inside her tight folds. Every muscle in her lower body burned pleasure, washing over her like a wave crashing down on top of her.

It felt so good. All her life, she’d been led to believe that anything that felt that good had to be sinful. There was no way around that. By having sex with a demon, though, she spat in the face of all those laurels. It was her way of telling the mortal world that something so wrong could still feel right.

“Good whore,” Sylenos grunted. “Now…I come too!”

Her body was still trembling, the inner muscles of her pussy still throbbing. There was no time to catch her breath, though. Her demon lover was going to climax too and that also carried a demonic twist.

“By the fires of Hades…yes!” he exclaimed.

Upon crossing that threshold, the hulking figure let out a roar that would’ve scared off an army of hungry grizzly bears. His eyes flashed bright red, his expression tensed with devious joy, and his bulging muscles throbbed as he released his demonic load into her pussy.

Demonic semen was not like that of an ordinary man. For one, there was a lot more of it, so much so that much of it spilled out of her depths. It was also extra potent, but not in the sense of traditional fertility. Old witchcraft texts once said that a demon’s cum was the literal manifestation of sexual pleasure. When released inside a woman’s body, it was like diving into an ocean of liquid ecstasy. It took an act that was already sinful in the eyes of many and turned it into something truly intoxicating.

Between that pleasure and the hot, demonic fluid now filling her pussy, Violet was utterly drunk on the unique euphoria that was demonic sex. However, even as Sylenos’ face tensed with similar bliss, she saw in his eyes that he was far from satisfied. That made two of them.

“More…take me more,” she said breathlessly.

“You dare challenge a demon in the realm of lust?” Sylenos teased.

“Yes! I dare.”

Her tone left no room for ambiguity. As if to allay further concerns, she freed her arms from the demon’s grip – no easy task, especially after an orgasm – and pulled the hulking figure into a kiss.

His horns didn’t bother her. His teeth, complexion, and rock-hard flesh didn’t bother her, either. By kissing him willingly, tangling her tongue with his, she sent a clear message. Sylenos hadn’t just seduced her. She chose him as much as he chose her. She hadn’t descended into a life of decadence and sex. She wanted it and Halloween was a chance to celebrate those desires.

“So daring,” Sylenos said, sounding genuinely surprised. “You never cease to amaze me, Violet.”

“Thank me by fucking me more,” she replied. “Fuck me…like the demon I love.”

“You love a demon…and everything that comes with it?”

“Let me prove it!”

Violet kissed him again, digging her nails into his crimson flesh, hooking her legs around his waist as his rigid cock remained deep inside her. Unlike men, demons didn’t have a refractory period. Their dicks stayed hard for as long as they wanted. It allowed them to indulge as the creatures of darkness they were. It also allowed them to deliver when they consorted with mortals.

Sylenos delivered as well as anyone, using the newfound leverage to instigate another around of hard fucking. He shifted his grip to her butt, squeezing it firmly as he bounced her up and down his cock. The candles burned brighter and the runes in the floor flickered erratically, like a Halloween spectacle that gave light to their decadence. It seemed like a fitting celebration, one that reflected both the feeling she craved and the price she’d paid for it.

“What I want…what I sought…I paid to get it,” she gasped as her body and world rocked once more, “I gladly accept it!”

The hulking creature responded with her proud proclamations with devilish delight. Unrestrained by mortal limits, Sylenos proceeded to ravage her in the light and spirit of Halloween. He held her up in her arms, bouncing her along his cock until she climaxed again. Shortly after that, he climaxed too, filling her pussy with more demon cum.

After that, he gave her lower body some needed rest and laid her on the floor again so that she was on her hands and knees. Then, he grabbed the sides of her face and shoved his cock into her mouth, face-fucking her with his oversized flesh. It tested and strained her jaw-muscles, but she could take it. The ecstasy was worth the strain. Something about that made her love for a demon so fitting.

He still didn’t go easy on her. He kept humping her face until he climaxed again, shooting a thick load of cum right down her gullet. It was so hot, but sweet. It was like actually tasting an orgasm, filling her insides with hot pleasure that rendered her even more dazed. A lesser woman wouldn’t have been able to handle it. She was more than that and she loved proving that, especially on Halloween.

“A sinner in this world,” her demon lover said with a devious glint, “but an angel in mine.”

Violet just smiled back, even as his cum dripped from her mouth. She barely had time to lick it up before he turned her around, keeping her on all fours, and guided his still-throbbing cock to her ass.

“One more hole to complete our celebration,” he whispered seductively into her ear.

“I’m ready,” she said without hesitation.

The young woman still braced herself as Sylenos thrust his cock into her. A sharp sting followed as he pierced her flesh, straining her lower body once more. The discomfort didn’t bother her for a second. The pleasure that followed did plenty to wash over the pain, keeping her in a steady state of bliss.

More orgasms followed. Each time she climaxed, the runes in the carpet flashed brighter. The pleasure that coursed through her burned hotter. With each feeling, she recounted the price that she’d paid all those years ago.

When Sylenos first described it, he made it sound steep. By giving her beauty, sex, and pleasure, he also gave her an inescapable caveat. She could live her life as an attractive, sexual woman. She could attract all the willing lovers she wanted. However, she would only ever attract men who would not love her for who she was. They would only ever love her for what she did for them.

On top of that, her insatiable sexual appetite ensured no one man could satisfy her. Even multiple men at once couldn’t satisfied her. She knew because she’d tried. It had been fun, but it still didn’t suffice. The idea that she would live the rest of her life, unsatisfied and unbearably horny, seemed like a curse. However, one woman’s curse was a demon’s blessing.

“This is it. This is what I want…what I need,” Violet found herself saying in her lecherous daze. “I can only ever fuck men. I can only love…a demon.”

The myths of old often claimed demons were incapable of giving love or sharing it. Those stories were incomplete, at best. The truth that no nun or holy man ever dared admit was that demons and creatures of darkness could love. It just wasn’t love as they understood it.

For them, love was a happy couple with a white picket fence, multiple kids, and a puppy. It wasn’t two horny beings fucking endlessly in the night. To them, that was debauchery. To a demon, though, that was love in its purest form. As beings born of desire, the line between sensual and intimacy did not exist. Sylenos understood that as well as any demon. Violet simply embraced it.

“On this night…our love shines brightest!” the demon said, just before releasing another load into her ass.

“Our love…our lust…ohhh yes!” Violet cried out, having another orgasm as well.

She and Sylenos continued to indulge, fucking hard under the light of the ritual until the candles burned out. She didn’t know how many orgasms she experience or how many loads her demon lover blew. She just knew that she was having a better Halloween than any woman could ever hope for.

Eventually, even demon lovers reached their limits. Once the candles grew short, the runes in the rug stopped glowing. Only the swirling vortex to the demon realm remained. Knowing he had to return, Violet kissed him one more time before their flesh finally parted. Sweat and fluids still covered her body, but Violet didn’t care. It got the job done. More than anything else, she and her lover had celebrated Halloween as only they could.

“Sylenos…my beautiful demon,” she said as she gazed into his glowing eyes as she lay on the floor, covered in sweat and cum, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Violet,” Sylenos replied as he floated towards the vortex. “I promise you won’t have to wait until another Halloween to know our love.”

“Most women don’t accept promises from a demon.

“You’re right…except you’re not most women.”

Violet smiled at her demonic lover and he smiled back. In that moment, the line between lust and love blurred. The same line that separated mortal from demon blurred as well. Two realms with forces that opposed one another became connected. It was not the kind of love or affection that was glorified by tradition every day, but on Halloween night, she and her demon lover could turn the tables.

“Happy Halloween, my love,” Violet said to him.

“For demons and whores alike,” Sylenos said, “it is very happy Halloween indeed!”

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