Tag Archives: Jack Fisher Books

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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Daily Sexy Musing: Cold Night Snuggling

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Halloween has passed. The days are getting shorter. It’s also getting noticeably colder outside. Unless you live in a tropical climate, in which case you’re the envy of many in my part of the world, these factors all lead to one critically sexy outcome. Snuggling is in and it’s about to get a lot more pragmatic.

I’ve already celebrated the joys of cuddling, but I make some key distinctions between cuddling and snuggling. As a self-professed romantic, I believe there are major differences and most people know them when they feel them. Cuddling is informal, playful, and supplementary to quality romance. Snuggling is more intimate and direct, allowing it to complement romance rather than just enhance it.

Before fire, snuggling was a key source of heat. There are logistics to it, which become even more necessary once we enter the fall and winter months. A good snuggle doesn’t just help us stay warm. It reminds us that we have a love in our lives that provides us with warmth, shelter, and protection in a very literal sense. Seriously, what could be more romantic than that?

This Daily Sexy Musing celebrates both the logistics and sentiment of snuggling. I hope it gives lovers out there something to contemplate on the many cold nights that await us this winter.

The night arrives. An unforgiving cold sweeps across the land. There’s no escaping it. Everywhere it goes, it seeks to expunge warmth and contentment. We cannot escape it, nor can we fight it. However, we can endure.

Alone, we only brave the coldness of the night.

Together, we dare defy it.

Unafraid of the looming darkness, we shed our clothes and gather blankets. We then surround ourselves in layers, insulating us from the icy touch of the night. Under the welcome shelter, we find each other. We follow one another to the only remaining source of heat. Thankfully, we don’t have to venture far.

The sun may be gone, but there is still warmth to be found. From you, the same flesh that arouses my every sense is now my salvation from the unforgiving gold. From me, I offer similar reprieve. I welcome you into my warmth. I share with you the sanctuary born from love, desire, and compassion.

I wrap you in my arms.

I surround you with my love.

I protect you as you protect me.

As our skin touches, heat fuels more heat. The cold attempts to snuff it out, but it fails miserably. There’s no stopping us. Our desire to keep each other warm proves too strong. Our need to survive the night proves too tenacious. By ourselves, we were vulnerable. With each other, we are stronger than any night.

Curled up under the sheets, creating more heat with every gesture, we smile. It is an affront to the cold and the darkness that spreads it. Where there was once despair and discomfort, we create a new domain for our passion. The night air can fight us all it wants. We’ll just fight harder with our love.

It starts with a simple snuggle, warm flesh warming warm flesh, the heat compounding every step of the way. It culminates in multiple ways. On one path, the heat allows us to make love. On one path, the heat allows us a peaceful sleep. In between, there are many others. All lead to a world of contentment.

Our bodies entwined, we navigate the cold night.

Our bodies entwined, we turn vulnerability into strength.

Our bodies entwined, we turn thoughts of passion into feelings of warmth.

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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: Fighting Stress (The Sexy Way)

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Ever have one of those days where every minute feels like another 60 seconds of compounding stress? Maybe a better question would be how many of those days have you had in the past month? I’ve certainly had those days. Going all the way back to high school, I’ve had more than a few instances where I’ve cursed the clock for going too damn slow.

As rough as these days can be, they’re also the times in which we need a little extra loving. I remember one particular day in college where I was so stressed out that I wanted to punch the nearest brick wall. Then, my girlfriend at the time called me and talked dirty to me, as only she could. I felt better almost instantly.

There are, of course, many ways to relieve stress. This dose of my Daily Sexy Musings celebrates the sexier methods. There are plenty of those two, but their effectiveness is beyond dispute. It even goes beyond stress relief. When you can make someone happy after such a shitty day, you know you’ve got something special. Enjoy!

I drag myself through the door. Every step feels like a march through quicksand. I enter a home that only welcomes me with silence, numb to the day I just endured. I want to collapse where I stand. I wish I could punch this day in the jaw and spit in its face. That’s how much I hate it.

Then, you appear before me. In a sea of chaos and frustration, you pierce the veil and shatter the darkness. Your face, your gaze, and your presence stop my anguish dead in its tracks. I open my mouth to speak. Only an angry string of incoherent cursing comes out. It doesn’t dissuade you in the slightest.

You don’t say a word.

I fall silent.

Finally, this long, arduous day ceases.

I remain silent, fuming as though the air is stabbing me from every angle. You brave the storm, approaching me without fear or reservation. I grit my teeth and fight the turmoil within, forcing back the onslaught of misery that has bombarded me throughout the day. Your presence gives me strength, but it only goes so far.

You see my angry poise.

You sense my distress on every level.

You reach out into the sorrow and find me in its grasp.

The battle within is failing. This day has me on the brink of defeat. Then, you take me into your arms. You hold me, kiss me, and entwine your spirit with mine. Almost instantly, the tide turns. I fall back from the brink.

As you hold me, a new strength enters me. Every tense fiber relaxes. A lifeline comes my way and I seize it. Once again, you are my anchor. You guide me through strife, easing my anguish and replacing it with peace.

We don’t stop with simple touch. On the spot, you remove my clothes. With them, you strip me of the burdens I’ve born. Naked and exposed, I stand before you someone wounded by so many forces. However, I need only your love and your sex to heal.

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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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Daily Sexy Musings: Sensual Scents

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Some claim smell is the sense most tied to memory. I can believe that to some extent. That said, if I go into a strip club and see a woman with breasts as natural as the Empire State Building, I’m going to remember that more than how she smells. However, I don’t deny the power of scent or the sex appeal it carries.

Certain people give off distinct scents and when you’re in love with that person, you tend to recognize it better than most. Then, there’s the distinct scents you conjure after intimate moments that may or may not include acts of ravenous love-making. Such activities work up a sweat. Sweat creates smells. It’s just science, albeit of the sexiest variety.

The following Daily Sexy Musing is a testament to the inherent sensuality of certain scents and the romantic connotations that often come with it. You may not always remember the sights and sounds of a powerful experience, but chances are, you’ll remember those scents for all the right reasons. Enjoy!

You enter the room. I don’t turn around and I don’t say a word. I already know it’s you. You don’t need to do anything to identify yourself. I can already sense you. Your very presence fills the air with something so distinct. Whether surrounded stale air or awash in brisk winds, I can find your beautifully unique scent.

It’s like a flower that only blooms in your presence, but I’m the only one you allow in your garden. I cherish that privilege. I thank every star in the sky that I get to sense it, the unique taste in the air that you offer to those around you. Most only ever get a sample. You give me the full course of your love.

I breathe deep and feel your warmth.

I take a whiff and enter your domain.

I savor the ethereal musk and follow it into your grasp.

Your scent is the catalyst. Words, gestures, and the elaborate acts that follow are the byproduct. Together, we create extra-potent intimacy. From a simple kiss to an act of extensive love-making, we spark the fires of our greatest passions and immerse ourselves in the warmth.

No matter the time or place, we find ways to feel one another. Words, touch, and acts of love carry us forward. It takes energy and work. The rigors of our love require dedication. I exert myself willingly and you return the favor every step of the way. It’s so exhausting, yet so worthwhile.

From one act, we spark desire.

From another, we evoke passion.

From more, we celebrate our love.

For every action, we must exert. We embrace, we kiss, and we make love. It can leave us sweaty and drained, but content and satisfied. I make every effort count. You match me, act for act. Your scent gets stronger and my heart beats faster. Love inspires passion and passion intensifies love.

In the end, the very thing that started it all lingers most prominently in the air around us. That distinct scent you exude, like the ghostly spirit of our love, hangs over our naked bodies as we lay together. I can close my eyes and silence my thoughts, but I still smell your scent. I can still feel your presence.

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The following is a review I wrote for PopMatters for X-men Black: Emma Frost #1. Enjoy!

Ascent of a True Queen: ‘X-men Black: Emma Frost #1’

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November 1, 2018 · 4:56 pm

“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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