Tag Archives: Jack Fisher Books

Publishing Update: Another (Expected) Rejection

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I just wanted to post a quick update on my publishing efforts, which I know I haven’t talked much about lately. There’s a reason for that, though. For the past couple months, I’ve been working with a former publisher to re-acquire the rights to a manuscript that was edited and prepared for publication a couple years ago.

That process took longer than I’d hoped, but it went through and I tried to re-submit the manuscript to the same publisher that published “Passion Relapse” and “Rescued Hearts.” I did this knowing it was somewhat of a long shot because my last three manuscripts to this publisher had been rejected. I felt if I could get this through, we would be back on track.

Sadly, that didn’t happen. Earlier today, I got a rejection letter. It wasn’t the rude kind, though. The editor offered me a sincere apology that they would not be able to publish my work. She claimed that things have been rough for small to mid-tier publishers. Unless your J. K. Rowling or Stephen King, it’s just hard to get any major project off the ground. I can understand that, but a rejection is a rejection.

I believe that after this, I’m done with that particular publisher. I’m not entirely sure of my next step. I’m still sitting on several finished manuscripts and one that is already professionally edited and ready to go. I’m not sure where to turn to next. I’m thinking of giving Writers Market a chance, but this is the part of the business I still don’t know much about.

When it comes to writing a novel or a sexy short story, I know how to do that. When it comes to the business and marketing side of things, though, I’m pretty ignorant. I’ll keep feeling my way around in the dark, hoping I’ll stumble across something. For now, though, my publishing efforts are a bit on hold. I hope it doesn’t stay that way. If anything changes, I’ll announced it in between sexy short stories.

To everyone who has supported and encouraged my efforts, I sincerely thank you.

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Filed under Books, Pubilishing, erotica, Las Vegas, erotic fiction, romance, Crimson Frost Books, Jack Fisher's Insights, Uncategorized

Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Dog Days Of Summer Edition

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It’s the first Sunday of August and that usually means we’ve officially entered the dog days of summer. We’ve all heard that expression at some point and not just from baseball fans. It usually signifies the point in the year in which the summer heat starts to burn and no amount of cold lemonade can stop it.

Now, I love summer as much as the next person who enjoys pool parties and beach trips. I love the hottest days of summer more than the coldest days of winter. At the same time, though, there’s a point where even I find the heat unbearable. Between sunburns, humidity, and hungry mosquitoes, even I can’t overlook the flaws.

As I write this, I’m nursing more than my share of sunburns and mosquito bites. I’ve also seen more than a few days where the temperature got into the triple digits and even my love of sleeping naked only goes so far. August tends to bring out the best and worst parts of summer and as much as I strive to stay positive, I can’t overlook how much my sun burns hurt.

I’m still not eager for winter to get here and hinder my ability to lounge around naked, but I’m not going to hide from the difficulties. As such, I dedicate this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to the dog days of summer and how we cope with them. Enjoy!


“Tough love and rough sex aren’t the same thing, but they use similar methods.”


“Anyone with a spanking fetish who is still insulted by a slap in the face is sending mixed messages.”


“Is there any feasible way to tell someone you think of them while you masturbate and present it as a compliment?”


“The fact that men are repulsed by the workings of female genitalia, but still want to put their dick in it says a lot about the power of their sex drive.”


“Marriage is like paying for a reserved parking spot with a piece of your heart, a part of your soul, and significant legal liabilities.”


“True love is being able to fart in the same bed with someone.”


“Talking to your lover about what you want in bed is like giving them a guide, but just telling them what to do is like giving them homework.”


I hope this provides enough distraction from the humidity, among other things. We’re in the middle of summer and probably have a few more heat waves to endure. That means more sun burns and bug bites lie ahead of us. As frustrating as they can be, I’ll take that over shoveling a foot of snow off my driveway any day of the week.

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The following is a review I wrote for PopMatters on “X-men Gold Annual #2.”

“X-men Gold Annual #2” Is A Summer Camp Snoozer

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August 2, 2018 · 9:00 pm

“Tea Time” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote that was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend involving tea. It wasn’t all that sexy at the time, but it gave me some sexy ideas. Enjoy!

“Drink this and Jeff will fuck you like a stallion!”

That was what Jessica King’s eccentric Aunt Mayne had told her the other day when she gave her an unmarked box of custom tea packs. She didn’t entirely recall what had led to them talking about sex life, but it happened and she was still recovering from the embarrassment.

Then again, she hadn’t exactly been too subtle about the recent shortcomings in her personal life lately. Her friends and family had commented more than once that she looked overly uptight and exceedingly stressed, especially for someone who worked her dream job as a costume designer and married her college sweetheart. Jessica had so few reasons to complain that she had to be extra subtle about her problems, but that proved challenging when it came to sex.

Standing in her kitchen, staring at the unmarked box her Aunt had given her, she wasn’t sure what to make of it. There were no labels or logos on the side. Her Aunt Mayne clearly hadn’t bought it from the internet or anything. She was the eccentric of the family, a free spirited older woman who loved to travel and bring back strange souvenirs. Her bringing back exotic tea seemed perfectly in character.

Tea that would fix her sex life, though? That was pushing it, even by eccentric Aunt Mayne standards.

“You were really eager to give this to me, Aunt Mayne,” Jessica said as she picked up the box. “I wish I knew why, but I’m kind of afraid to wonder.”

Curious, and even a little intrigued, she opened the box and took out a couple of tea bags. She scanned them briefly. Near as she could tell, they were ordinary looking bags. When she smelled them, though, they didn’t smell like ordinary tea.

“That aroma…what the hell is that?” Jessica wondered. “It’s nice, but…different.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of it. She didn’t remember her Aunt Mayne giving her specifics. She’d just told her to drink the tea and that would somehow solve her and Jeff’s intimacy problems. It seemed too good to be true, but given the current state of their sex life, Jessica was willing to take chances.

“Well, if I’m going to take advice from a crazy aunt, I might as well get a little crazy myself,” she said with a shrug.

Choosing not to overthink it, she set the box aside and went to work making some late afternoon tea. She retrieved the pot from the stove, filled it with water, and heated it up. As it warmed up, she took her and Jeff’s favorite mugs from the kitchen cabinet.

Given the cold, stormy weather outside, it was a good time for tea. She and Jeff often enjoyed sharing a cup or two in the later afternoon when it was too late for coffee. It was Saturday as well, which happened to be the only day of the week when they got to spend the whole day together. Jeff often visited his aging grandmother at a nursing home on Sundays and she worked irregular hours during the week. If they were going to improve their sex lives, it was going to happen on a Saturday.

As the water heated up, Jessica wondered how it got to this point. She and Jeff used to be such a passionate, playful couple. Even during college, while holding down a full load of classes, they somehow found the time and energy to have sex at least five times a week. At one point, they were doing it twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. It was their morning wake-up call and midnight snack, as Jeff once described.

“I miss those days,” Jessica said distantly as the kettle started steaming.

It seemed so long ago, but it wasn’t that far back. She still had some of the lingerie she’d worn during the many passionate nights they shared in that cramped, unkempt apartment they’d once lived in. Jeff once joked that their clean and spacious house just wasn’t dirty enough for the kinky sex they used to have. She now suspected that hadn’t been joking.

Neither one of them knew when their current sexual dry spell began. Jessica suspected it began earlier that spring. In the span of a month, her mother got divorced for the second time, Jeff’s grandfather passed away, and one of her step-sisters went to jail. None of that should’ve impacted their sex life, which had been pretty healthy up to that point. Over time, though, it just seemed to fade.

Little by little, their intimate moments became less frequent. Even when they had sex, it was less about passion and more about scratching an itch. They treated sex almost like an extra meal, something they did to fulfill a basic need and nothing more. There was never any desert or snacking, so to speak. Then, a couple of months ago, it stopped entirely and that really worried her.

“Is it just a dry spell? Or a sign of things to come?” Jessica wondered.

Those were tough questions that no married woman wanted to contemplate. Thankfully, the tea kettle started hissing and that drew her attention.

With another sigh, she removed the kettle and poured the water into their mugs. Using two of the bags from the box, she steeped the exotic leaves into the steamy water to disperse the flavors. That strange smell quickly filled the kitchen, but it beat the smell of week-old leftovers that usually filled the air.

“Hey Jeff! I made us some tea,” she called out as she made her way to the dining room with both cubs in hand.

“Great! I’ll be right there,” Jeff replied from his office where he’d been video chatting with some friends.

She briefly debated telling him about the source of the tea, but Jessica doubted he’d care. Jeff was one of those guys who drank his coffee black, bought the cheapest beer, and didn’t go for fancy wine. His tastes were simple. If it was warm, tasty, and soothing, he drank it. He was easy to please, in that respect. That made their recent struggles in the bedroom all the more frustrating.

Jessica waited a moment for the tea to cool down before drinking it. After a couple minutes, Jeff entered the dining room, still wearing the same unwashed football jersey he’d worn to bed the previous night. Usually, she’d berate him for wearing a shirt that long. On such a dreary day where everything felt so overwhelming, she just didn’t have the energy.

“Tea…just what I need,” he said as he sat down across from her. “That’s decaf, right?”

“As far as I know, it’s the mild stuff,” Jessica replied, which was only a half-truth. “It won’t keep either of us from taking a nap this afternoon.”

“Good,” Jeff said, “because I do not have the energy for more jitters. I just found out my uncle Rob is still arguing with my dad on my grandfather’s old house. On top of that, the heater is going to be stuck at half-capacity for a few more days.”

“So it’s going to be cold and depressing for a bit longer,” she said. “Maybe I should’ve broken out the vodka.”

“Better save that for tonight. I swear if my dad calls me again to whine about that lawyer Uncle Rob hired…”

Her husband trailed off, shaking his head in frustration as he took his first sip of the tea. It was probably best he didn’t finish. Jeff had done plenty of complaining about his ongoing family dramas since his grandfather died. He was probably just as sick of talking about it as much as she was hearing it.

At the very least, he didn’t react strongly to the tea. He sipped it like he did any other hot drink. Assured that there was nothing strange about it, Jessica drank some as well. To her relief, it tasted fine, which made her wonder why her Aunt Mayne made such a big deal about it in the first place.

“This is good,” Jeff said, “just what I needed too. I swear these past couple of weeks are conspiring against me.”

“To be fair, nobody conspired to damage those rusted coils in the heater,” Jessica pointed out as she took another sip. “That was just us putting off maintenance work way longer than we should have.”

“The timing still sucks,” he said. “I don’t know how much longer I can play mediator with my family. It’s not fair to you or the guys at work.”

“So electricians aren’t immune to family drama? I’m genuinely shocked,” Jennifer said dryly.

“Yeah, you’d think the fear of electrocution would distract a guy. Guess I’m too brave for my own good.”

“Or just too human,” she pointed out, “which isn’t a bad thing, mind you. Someone has to have humility in a family drama. That sure would’ve helped my sister during her last divorce.”

“True,” Jeff said, “but I just wish someone else would bear the burden. It isn’t fair to me, my folks, and especially you.”

He reached across the table and held her hand. On such a cold, dreary day, the warmth of his touch was just what she needed. It got her to smile for the first time in days. He smiled back and drank more of his tea.

“I know this crap has been affecting us, Jess,” he went on. “I know I keep apologizing and you keep saying it’s all right.”

“That’s because I mean it,” Jessica said, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze. “Hell, I’ve whined just as much about my sister’s latest failed marriage so I’d say we’re even.”

“Even or not, that doesn’t make it right,” Jeff said strongly. “Being so damn overwhelmed on our own shouldn’t make us too overwhelmed for each other.”

“We’ll endure. I married you because I knew we could.”

“And I married you because you kept my attitude in check,” he said, “that and you make good tea.”

“Glad to know I’m doing okay thus far, as your wife,” she laughed.

He smiled again, but he remained restless as he drank the rest of his tea. Jessica did the same, finishing hers fairly quickly. Between the lack of a functioning heater and family drama, a warm beverage went a long way in improving her mood.

As she finished the last few sips, though, she started to feel something unexpected. As she held her husband’s hand, Jessica felt a sudden heat in her core. It started small. She figured it was just the tea entering her stomach. Then, that heat grew and made its way downward, eventually settling between her legs. Before long, it morphed from bodily warmth to full-fledged sexual arousal.

She began shifting in her seat, thinking it was just a fluke. The feeling didn’t go away, though. It had been a while since she’d gotten randomly aroused on a Saturday afternoon, but she still remembered what it felt like. It could’ve just been a byproduct of her and Jeff’s recent dry spell, but Jessica sensed other forces at work.

“The tea,” she said distantly, looking down at her empty up.

“Is really good, by the way,” Jeff said, whose demeanor had shifted as well. “I don’t know what flavor this is, but there’s something about it that just feels strong. Are you sure it doesn’t have caffeine in it?”

“I’m sure…mostly,” Jessica said.

Jeff eagerly gulped down the rest. He had let go of her hand and was now staring intently at his empty cup. He clearly sensed something too. She even saw him shift in his seat somewhat. Those old jeans of his suddenly looked uncomfortable.

As Jessica tried to make sense of the feeling, she felt more heat consume her body. It wasn’t just concentrated between her legs, either. It spread out in all directions. Her skin felt hotter, breaking out in a light sweat and in a house with a half-functioning heater, no less. Her clothes felt itchy as well, which shouldn’t have been possible since she was wearing a T-shirt and sweat pants. It got to a point where the arousal was so intense that it didn’t feel natural.

“Whatever was in it, I’m feeling it,” Jeff said. “I swear this room just got ten degrees hotter.”

“Yeah,” she said distantly, “maybe the heater is working better than we thought.”

“That piece of junk? I doubt it.”

Jeff, his face now flushed, removed his shirt and wiped some light sweat from his brow. That might have helped him, but it only compounded the feeling for Jessica.

She was already inextricably aroused. Seeing her husband shirtless – a man who spent a lot of time in the sun at work and played sports in college – only intensified that feeling.

“Oh boy…damn you, Aunt Mayne,” Jessica said under her breath, now rubbing her thighs together.

“You say something, Jess?” he asked her.

“No!” she said quickly. “I mean…I guess I’m feeling it too.”

“Really?”

She tried to respond, but only ended up smiling awkwardly. There was no denying it anymore. She wasn’t just horny. She hadn’t felt this aroused since their honeymoon. Sitting across from her shirtless husband, having not had satisfying sex in way too long, she felt basic instincts overshadow her ability to rationalize the situation.

“Jessica?” Jeff said after a brief silence. “Are you okay?”

He took her hand in his again. That might have been the best or worst thing he could’ve done. Feeling his touch triggered even more instincts. His palms were already sweaty, excreting a distinct scent of manliness that filled the air between them with more than just heat.

Looking up from her cup and into his eyes, she saw the same effects as well. His face still flushed and his breathing now labored, she could tell he was aroused too. She didn’t need to see an uncomfortable bulge in his pants. Jessica knew her husband well enough to know when he was really in the mood. Whether from the tea or pent up frustration, Jeff had the eyes of a man who needed to fuck.

“Jeff,” she began, “this may sound kind of random, but…”

“You want to fuck right here on the table?” he said intently, desire echoing through every word.

“Well, I wasn’t going to be that specific, but if that’s how you want to do it…”

Jessica didn’t get a chance to finish. She didn’t have the patience and neither did Jeff. In an outburst of lust that overwhelmed every other burden they’d dealt with, they shot up from their seat, leaned across the table, and kissed each other with the passion of a couple of horny prom dates. Before she knew it, Jeff had grabbed her T-shirt, pulled it off over her head, and removed her bra with stunning efficiency.

“Off! Get it off!” she found herself saying.

Their lips parted just long enough for him to get her shirt off. Now topless, he breasts exposed and her nipples erect, Jessica crawled up onto the table, knocking the two tea cups off in the process and onto the carpeted floor. They didn’t shatter or leave much of a mess, but she didn’t care. She’d clean it up later. For the moment and foreseeable future she just wanted to fuck her husband.

Now propped on her knees in the center of the table, Jessica smothered her husband with a fury of kisses while he fondled her exposed breasts. She kissed with more tongue than she had on their third date, throwing in a potent blend of affection and lust. She also pawed his upper body, feeling those manly sinews that once drove her so wild with desire. After a prolonged absence, those desires were back with a vengeance.

“Jeff…I’m so horny,” Jessica said in her depending daze.

“Me too,” he said as he gave her breasts a firms squeeze. “I don’t know why, but I want to fuck you so bad right now, Jess!”

Jessica made the tea in hopes of warming herself up and getting Jeff away from the drama surrounding his dad. She’d succeeded in that, not giving too much thought to her Aunt Mayne’s claim about the tea. Now, she found herself wondering whether she’d been too skeptical of her eccentric aunt.

Colorful family members were the last thing on her mind, at the moment. Having made his intent clear, Jeff stepped up the pace of their foreplay. After fondling her breasts and reacquainting his tongue with hers, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer. In the process, she shifted her body so that she sat upright on the edge of the table with her legs hanging over the side. With little hesitation and growing eagerness on her part, he lifted up her lips slightly and pulled off her sweat pants.

When he failed to remove her panties, as well, he just grabbed ripped them off, tearing through the fabric in the process. It caught her by surprise, somewhat. Jeff could be pretty passionate during sex, but he hadn’t been that aggressive in quite some time. Torn panties aside, Jessica remembered how much she loved it.

“I’ll replace those,” he told her.

“I don’t care,” Jessica told him. “Now what are you waiting for? Get those pants off!”

Showing some aggressiveness of her own, she shot her husband a look of urgency and desire. Now fully naked, her legs spread and her arousal obvious for him to see, Jessica left no room for ambiguity. She wanted to fuck and she wanted it now.

Jeff responded like soldier on a mission, almost tearing his own pants off in the process. That proved somewhat difficult because of a sizable bulge that even a pair of loose jeans couldn’t hide. He still managed to get it off, freeing a raging hard-on that she hadn’t seen since their anniversary last year. Jessica didn’t think it was possible for a man to get that hard that quickly, but she was beyond caring about the specifics.

“Come here, beautiful,” he told her, sounding like the most suave man in the world.

“Take me, my husband,” Jessica replied, trying to sound like the most seductive.

Wasting no time and not hesitating for a microsecond, he grabbed her by the thighs, pushed them apart, and pulled her closer into his grasp. She eagerly leaned back on her arms, hooking her legs around his waist as he guided his rigid member towards her wet entrance. He then thrust his hips forward, driving his dick into her pussy. The smooth melding of their flesh flooded Jessica with an onslaught of welcome and overdue sensations.

“Ohhh yes!” she moaned. “That’s what I want!”

“And that’s what you’ll get,” Jeff said intently.

Showing a grit that sent her feminine instincts into overdrive, Jeff began fucking her with a fervor that rocked the table, if not the entire room. He was strong and fervent with each movement, pumping his throbbing cock within the tight folds of her depths. The merging of their flesh was so smooth, as though their bodies had ached for one another on a primal level.

Following her husband into the intense sexual rhythm, Jessica leaned back further on the table and moaned blissfully at the steady stream of pleasure. She dug her feet into his lower back, supplementing each one of his thrusts with some force of her own. Her breasts bounced along with the rest of the table, the shared movements of their sex evoking that special kind of intimacy and ecstasy.

It was so fast and intense that it sent Jessica to the brink of orgasm in record time. It felt like Jeff had found a short-cut of sorts, one that stimulated just the right nerves in just the right places. Having not had a good, solid release in so long, Jessica embraced that feeling to the utmost.

“Ooh I’m coming, Jeff! I…I’m coming!” she cried out.

Jeff barely faltered. If anything, he stepped up the pace of their sex, fucking her harder and rocking her body with more vigor. He even leaned in, burying his face between her breasts and smothering her cleavage with his lips. It made Jessica squeal with delight, having not forgotten how much he loved playing with her breasts during sex. It had been a while since he’d been that playful and it gave the orgasm that followed even greater meaning.

“Ohhh Jeff!”

It hit her like a tidal wave. She closed her eyes, threw her head back, and curled her toes as a sharp surge of pleasure erupted from her core. Under the weight of such sensations, Jessica felt her inner muscles contracting around her husband’s cock, he echoes of ecstasy radiating from head to toe.

She would’ve fallen flat on the table had Jeff not caught her, holding her up and giving her something to cling to as she climaxed. Even in his lustful daze, his love for her and his fondness of watching her come showed. It made the release that much more satisfying.

“Wow! You were really that horny,” he said into her ear as she soaked in her climax.

“Speak…for yourself,” Jessica quipped in her orgasmic daze.

“Why speak when I can show you?”

There was a mischievous undertone to his voice, the kind he rarely used outside their kinkiest moments. Even after an overdue orgasm, Jessica still had plenty of desire for sex and Jeff was all too willing to oblige.

Before she fully recovered from their climax, he adjusted their bodies. First, he briefly withdrew from her still-throbbing vagina. Then, he pulled her forward a bit and turned her over so that she was now bent over the table. Now clinging to the sides for support, she could already feel Jeff positioning himself behind her for more sex.

“Do it, Jeff. Show me!” she told him, still drunk on the ecstasy.

He replied with a deep, masculine grunt that kept her instincts in overdrive. Grabbing hold of her hips once more, he guided his dick back towards her wet entrance and entered her once more. He then re-established a sexual rhythm, going even harder and faster than before. He even kicked the chair out of the way so that he had more room to work.

With her breasts now pressed up against the polished wood, holding onto both sides for whatever leverage she could manage, Jessica gladly accommodated her husband’s burning desires. He’d been so efficient at bringing her to orgasm. It was only fair that she did the same and after everything he’d gone through with his family, he needed it.

As he worked his cock inside her, his pelvis rhythmically smacking against her butt, Jessica bucked her hips, parted her legs a bit more, and tensed her inner muscles in accord with every thrust. His flesh sought hers and her flesh embraced his, a perfect harmony of desire and entwinement. It was the kind of intimate act they’d cherished for as long as they’d been together. Enjoying it once more was both refreshing and profound.

Her efforts didn’t go rewarded. Jessica knew the kinds of stuff that got her husband off and few things worked better than him just getting behind her and hammering away, allowing him to exercise the extent of his desires. The end result was almost as efficient for him as it was for her.

“Jessica! I…I’m close! I’m really…really close!” Jeff grunted as his movements grew more desperate.

“I’m ready, my love,” Jessica moaned. “You need this too. We both do.”

As her husband delivered the last round of thrusts, Jessica rose up a bit from her position. She then reached behind, grabbed his wrists, and guided his hands to her breasts. He’d always enjoyed squeezing them when he climaxed. Her remembering that was her way of showing that she hadn’t forgotten how much they enjoyed each other’s intimate company. Hopefully, it would also ensure they wouldn’t forget in the future.

With her breasts, among other things, in his hands, Jeff let out a round of deep, manly moans as he crossed that special threshold. His movements steadied, his body tensed, and manhood throbbed inside her as he achieved his long-awaited release. Jessica let out a moan as well upon feeling his manly fluid mix with her feminine juices. It symbolized a perfect blending of passions, culminating in a unique kind of ecstasy.

“God, I love you, Jessica,” he said breathlessly.

“I love you too, Jeff,” Jessica said affectionately.

After he soaked in the orgasmic sensations, he withdrew from her, giving her room to turn around and take him in her arms. Just as he’d done with her, she caught him before the weight of the pleasure could overwhelm his sense of balance. He eagerly accepted her embrace, as well as the loving kiss that came with it.

“That…was something else, Jess,” Jeff said, having finally caught his breath.

“Yeah…it was,” Jessica replied with a beaming smile.

“That was also some really good tea,” he added, the half-smirk revealing that he’d made the connection.

“I agree…really good.”

They both laughed. Apparently, her eccentric Aunt Mayne had been right. Whatever was in that tea did wonders for her sex life. She would have to find out where she got it and how to get more the first chance she got.

For the moment, though, she and Jeff lingered together for a moment, now naked and sweaty in the middle of their dining room. In a home with a clunky heater, it was a damn good feeling. They still had to lean back on the table for support. Jessica also felt some lingering desire within her, as well as from her husband.

“So…want to take this to the living room and work on a few rug burns?” Jeff suggested.

“Hell yes!” Jessica said without hesitation. “First, I should probably make us some more tea.”

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Pool Party Edition

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Who doesn’t enjoy a good pool party in the middle of summer? Seriously, you’d have to be an inherently miserable person or a vampire to not find some joy in it. As a kid, they were often the best part of my summer. Even as an adult, they still rank right up there, albeit behind bikinis and topless sunbathers.

A pool party is like anti-school. It’s a manifestation of the best parts of a particular time of year. School make take up a good chunk of that year, but that makes events like pool parties even more special. They’re a celebration of a wonderful time of year when you can sleep in on weekdays, not have to worry about homework, and take mid-day naps by the pool.

I grew up in a neighborhood where there was at least one pool party a month in the summer. I currently live in a community where we had one just yesterday. You’re never too old to enjoy it. That’s why I dedicate this week’s edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts to pool parties and all the summer joy they bring.


“Situation and circumstance determine whether being naked makes for a terrible nightmare or a sexy fantasy.”


“Fake tits won’t make up for a fake personality, but they will offer a welcome distraction.”


“Strippers are the first (and still best) manifestation of interactive porn.”


“Softcore porn is like pizza without toppings in that it’s still good, but not as much as it could be.”


“Seeing is believing, but when it comes to fake tits, feeling is certainty.”


“Telling your lover about your fantasies is akin to giving them a how-to guide to your orgasm.”


“Your doctor and your lover both know your body intimately, but your lover will always offer an affordable co-pay.”


For the record, a good chunk of these thoughts came to me while I was lounging by the pool. I like to think that these are the musings inspired by the best parts of summer. Whether they take place by the pool or in an air conditioned room, they reflect a great time of year. Between sexy swimsuits and having another excuse to sleep naked, what’s not to love?

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A (Sexy) Personal Story About My Ex-Girlfriend

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Every now and then, I take a moment to get personal on this site by recounting a particular moment in my life. I enjoy sharing those parts of myself. I even find them therapeutic at times. Most of the time, I do that to help make a larger point about a more serious issue or to celebrate a holiday, such as Mother’s Day.

However, this is not one of those times.

Today, I’d like to share a story of a far sexier variety. Don’t drive your heads too deep into the gutter. It’s not one of those stories that will get as graphic as my novels or my sexy short stories. This is just a little tidbit of my life that should help explain why I have such a lurid mind and such eclectic passions.

This particular story involves an ex-girlfriend of mine. Don’t worry, it doesn’t involve bitterness, broken hearts, or revenge. There are enough stories like that on the internet. Instead, I want to share a story that is both uplifting and influential. To date, I think it has heavily influenced my desire to write and share sexy stories.

To understand why this moment is so influential, I need to provide some context. This particular moment occurred during my freshman year of college. I had met my girlfriend online through a comic book message board. We’d been chatting back and forth for over a year before we actually met. When we finally did meet in person, it was the opposite of one of those catfishing stories.

What we had was a beautiful thing. We were very comfortable talking to each other about things that were nerdy or embarrassing to discuss with others. That didn’t just pertain to comics, though. We also talked about sexy stuff. In our defense, were a couple of horny college students. That’s not an excuse. That’s a valid reason. There’s a difference, as I’ve noted before.

It’s that comfort that helped us forge what might have been one of the sexiest parts of our relationship. During the Thanksgiving holiday that year, my girlfriend came over the visit for a few days. As part of the festivities, we both went shopping on Black Friday. That may not sound romantic, but seeing as how we both love shopping on the holidays, it might as well have been a day in Paris.

I took her to one of the big malls in my area. We spent most of the afternoon there, eating lunch and navigating chaotic crowds. The fact she insisted on wearing heels just showed how dedicated she was to sharing the holiday spirit with me. That dedication showed in the last store we visited that day, which happened to be Victoria’s Secret.

Now, if you’re a healthy heterosexual man like me, you tend to have mixed feelings about that store. You love sexy lingerie and the sexy models who wear them, but when you’re single, spending too much time around a Victoria’s Secret can send all the wrong messages. When you’re with your girlfriend, though, it can be the sexiest kinds of fun.

My ex-girlfriend understood this so she didn’t hesitate to lead me inside, putting me in close proximity with all the sexy attire I love describing in my stories. From there, she demonstrated the energy of a kid in a candy factory, browsing some extra intimate apparel that included a nighty and a thong.

It’s worth noting at this point that my ex was abnormally comfortable with this sort of thing. She wasn’t just the kind of girl who didn’t mind talking about sex. She had a pretty dirty mind and an even dirtier mouth. In public and around people, she was very sweet and polite. In private, though, she said things that would make a hardened sailor gasp. That should help make clear why I was so attracted to her.

She knew this too because we spent more time in that Victoria’s Secret store than we did any other store at the mall. We didn’t mind, though. Personally, I wish we could’ve stayed longer. When we did leave, it wasn’t empty-handed. My ex bought a little something that day, as well. It made for a damn productive day, especially for two indebted college students.

The story doesn’t end there, though. In fact, it gets even sexier because early that next morning, my ex decided to put that new lingerie to good use. Just before the sun came up, she snuck over to my bed and slipped out of the pajamas she’d worn, revealing that she was wearing that same sexy nighty and revealing thong we saw in the store. Needless to say, that woke me up in the best possible way.

What happened after that is something I prefer to keep private. I promise it didn’t get too lurid. Remember, I was at my parents’ house and they weren’t going to let us get too reckless. That said, there were some intimate moments that were pretty intense, probably the most intense we shared during our relationship.

That’s as much detail I’m willing to share about that moment, for now. I hope it offers some insight into where some of my kinky musings come from. Out of respect and appreciation for that moment, I won’t share anything else about my ex-girlfriend. I doubt she’ll ever read this, but I still sincerely thank her for the time we had together.

A while back, I found out my ex-girlfriend actually got married. By all accounts, she’s as happy as she’s ever been and I’m happy for her. I think the man she married is lucky to have her. I sincerely hope that I can build something like it with a future lover. Until that day comes, sexy memories like this one will keep inspiring me.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: San Diego Comic Con 2018 Edition

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Another year has come and so too has San Diego Comic Con. For die-hard comic book fans like me, it’s like Christmas with sexier costumes. Between the news about my favorite comics, fresh movie trailers, and the greatest cos-players in the world, it’s basically my Woodstock. While I’ve made numerous trips to the New York Comic Con, one of the items on my bucket list is to go to San Diego one year.

I wasn’t able to make it out this time. I’m hoping that when I become a best-selling writer, I’ll have the money, time, and resources to make the trip. I’ll even try to make an elaborate costume, whether it’s one of the X-men or Wonder Woman. I don’t know when that moment will come, but for now I’m content to just follow the big news, admire the cos-players, and discuss the best and sexiest moments.

The middle of summer is awesome enough between hot weather, trips to the beach, and valid reasons for sleeping naked. Adding San Diego Comic Con to the mix is just an extra thick layer of frosting on top. I can think of no better summer event for which to dedicate my Sexy Sunday Thoughts. Whether you’re lucky enough to be in San Diego or just like browsing the internet while dressed as a superhero, this is for you. Enjoy!


“There’s no right way to finding out you enjoy having your nipples pinched.”


“A G-spot only exists for those determined to find it and willing to share the journey.”


“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but a cucumbers tends to have some pretty specific implications.”


“You can’t say you’re in love without knowing the distinct scent of your lover’s genitals.”


“To argue with someone after great sex is akin to sleeping after a long nap.”


“Children are a joy because they’re the literal manifestation of orgasms.”


“Yelling the name of a deity during sex is the only prayer all faiths share.”


To those who got to addend the San Diego Comic Con this year, I envy you and I hope you had an excellent time. I hope to join you one year. Until then, keep making those costumes as sexy and awesome as possible. For events like this, you guys are the real heroes.

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“The Motivator” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote involving job interviews, confidence, and a beautiful woman who helps with both. Enjoy!

“You can do this, Mike. You can do this. You’re ready! You couldn’t be more ready if you tried.”

Michael Young said those words again and again as he paced restlessly in a small conference room. In just under an hour, he was scheduled for an interview that might very well determine the course of his life. He’d been busting his ass, working long hours and late nights at this company for nine years. After all that time and toil, the opportunity he’d been hoping for came along.

Six weeks ago, a new senior executive position opened in a newly-formed department. Whoever got that job wouldn’t just be taking over for some old employee who retired. They would be in a position to forge a bold new path for themselves and the company. It wouldn’t just be a promotion. It would be a clean slate with which to build a career to call his own.

Michael had been searching for that opportunity since he graduated college, having gone into debt and lived in crappy shared apartments for nearly six years. He only recently began driving a car that was less than 10 years old. Just paying off his debts wasn’t enough, though. Michael aspired to something more.

“This is what you worked for,” he told himself. “Nobody else will do this as well as you. You know that. Don’t you?”

That last part made him cringe, so much so that he had to stop pacing and lean on the conference table for support. He closed his eyes and cussed himself out for having such crippling doubt. That had been his biggest flaw ever since he started working, having lost out on more than one promotion because of it. His ex-girlfriend once told him his doubts made him falter and when he faltered, it was painfully obvious.

“You know. You know. You know, damn it!” Michael repeated, trying to hammer that into idea into his brain.

He checked his watch again. He now had 55 minutes left. Time was going painfully slow and he was already sweating bullets. At the rate he was going, he’d be a wreck before the interview started.

Michael refused to let that do him in. He already got much farther than most. Only five people were set to interview for the new position, him being one of them. His old supervisor even told him that the Board wasn’t looking to bring someone in from the outside. They wanted their new executive to come from within. They wanted someone who knew the company and was ambitious to build it up. That fit him to the letter.

Then again, those four other candidates probably thought the same. Some might even be more qualified, connected, or experienced than him, at least on paper. If he was to have any chance, he had to make a lasting impression in the interview.

He’d been practicing, mentally and in front of a mirror for nearly three days straight. Little things like sleep and relaxation had been exceedingly limited. He refused to use that as an excuse, though. He’d worked as hard as he could, preparing as best as he could. There was literally nothing else he or anyone could possibly do.

As he leaned on the desk, trying to purge his mind of all shreds of doubt, the door to the conference room opened. Having been told the room was supposed to be vacant all day, it caught him off guard.

“Michael Young? Is that you?” a female voice said.

“Yeah, who wants to…”

Michael stopped himself in mid-sentence. It wasn’t because he’d been overly shocked by the unexpected intrusion. It was because the intruder happened to be a tall, beautiful, and distinctly buxom woman in a black buckled sheath dress. Having become very familiar with the men and women who worked at the company, Michael didn’t recognize her and that was a telling sign.

“Um…I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said awkwardly, trying to collecting himself. “I’m just a little tense right now.”

“I can see that,” the woman said with a wry grin, “but if you are Michael, then I’m in the right place.”

“Are you sure? The facilities guy told me I’d have this room to myself for an hour. I’ve got this big interview coming up.”

“I know about the interview. I also know about this room being unoccupied for the day. That’s what I was hoping for. I’d rather not have any interruptions.”

There was a mysterious, but alluring subtext to her voice. Michael wasn’t sure what to make of it, but did not protest as the woman closed the door behind her, locked it, and set her purse aside.

As she walked over to him, he noticed something else about the woman that might or might not have been intentional. Not only was her dress somewhat undersized for her voluptuous figure, it did a poor job of containing her large breasts, so much so that he swore he could see her nipples poking out from the fabric. Having grown up in a house with three sisters, he could tell when a woman wasn’t wearing bra.

That alone hinted that the woman wasn’t the new intern in accounting. She couldn’t be the senior VP’s new assistant either, who was gay and extremely uptight about the office dress code. The way she walked and the way she carried herself made clear that she did not work at the company, but her poise gave the impression she owned every room she entered.

“My name is Elizabeth Sweet,” she said, now standing so close that he could smell her perfume. “I’m a consultant, of sorts. Your old friend Oliver hired me to help you before your interview.”

“Ollie hired you?” Michael said with a raised eyebrow. “Oliver Owen, the same guy who hired strippers for our college graduation party and still somehow married my ex-supervisor’s daughter?”

“Yep! That’s him,” Elizabeth affirmed. “He’s what you might call a novel thinker in the field of human resources.”

“That’s the least vulgar way to describe Ollie’s approach to management, but I’ll go with it.”

“For the past year, he’s hired me a few times to help motivate those he feels has potential. He told me you have more than anyone he’s come across and paid me extra to help you realize it.”

Michael opened his mouth to respond, but fell silent when Elizabeth moved in closer and snaked her arms around his neck. The warmth of her body, the soft touch of her smooth skin, and the devious glint in her eye helped captivate him to a point where he forgot about his earlier doubts. On top of that, he could feel her breasts pressing up against his chest through his suit, confirming that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

It also confirmed that Elizabeth Sweet – which he doubted was her real name – wasn’t the kind of consultant who lectured companies on leadership skills. Michael had been to enough strip clubs and bachelor parties – mostly with Oliver, no less – to recognize a sex worker. That helped him piece together what his friend had done for him.

“Remind me to thank and/or kill Oliver when this is over,” Michael said.

“It’s probably best you decide after you get your promotion,” replied Elizabeth in an overtly seductive voice.

“After? You sure sound certain.”

“And so should you,” she retorted. “You probably think I’m just some bimbo your buddy hired to boost your spirits…that this is just some elaborate prank meant to help you loosen up.”

“You don’t strike me as a bimbo, Ms. Sweet,” he said, “but to be fair, that sounds exactly like something Ollie would do.”

“I don’t think you give your friend enough credit. You see, I am in the business you think I am, but not to the extent you assume. I have a specialty, so to speak. I have a talent for gauging someone’s potential and helping them realize it.”

As if to make her point, she trailed her hand down his chest and over his torso. Even through his dress shirt, he could feel the warmth of her touch. It sent shivers through his body, which was a welcome contrast from all the anxious feelings he’d been experiencing.

Then, when she reached his pants and traced around his groin, Michael felt his dick spring to life. He was somewhat embarrassed at first, but a coy grin from Elizabeth helped reassure him. For all he knew, he’d just made her point.

“In my extensive experience with men, there’s a considerable difference between who have great ambition and those who actually pursue it,” she went on, her hand still rubbing the outline of his cock through his pants.

“What kind of difference?” asked Michael, trying his best to distract himself.

“It’s akin to the difference between wanting something and really desiring it,” Elizabeth said, using very erotic overtones for that last part. “Most people want that big promotion, a fat raise, or a beautiful woman to rub their cock. To desire it, though, you need to be extra motivated. Not just to work hard, either. It has to really matter to you.”

While still rubbing over his pants with one hand, she used the other to grasp his wrist and guide his hand to her butt. Having been leaning back on the conference table, it left him off-balance. He quickly regained it, though, reaching around with his other hand so that he had her heart-shaped butt in her grasp.

Even through her dress, it felt so good. Her presence, her body, and her voice just radiated so much sex appeal. He found himself giving her butt a quick squeeze, evoking a favorable response in Elizabeth. In fact, she seemed genuinely aroused by it.

“I can tell you’re motivated, Michael,” she said. “I sense this promotion does matter to you.”

“Is that really all you sense?” Michael said with a half-grin.

“I could spend the next several hours documenting all the things I see in you…your demeanor, your sense of passion, and even your taste in clothing,” said Elizabeth, “since we don’t have much time though, I’ll cut to the chase.”

“And hopefully it doesn’t involve my taste in men’s fashion.”

“It doesn’t. It involves the finding the necessary strength a man needs do more than pursue his ambition. If he’s going to get what he desires, he needs to be motivated into tapping that strength. That’s where I come in.”

The voluptuous woman gave his groin another squeeze. At that point, there was a noticeable bulge in his pants. Her touch, her presence, and her seductive tone had gotten his blood flowing and his heart racing in just the right ways. Considering how stressed he’d been moments ago, it was quite a feat, which said just as much about Elizabeth than it did about him.

With that bulge so visible, the beautiful woman reached behind and grasped his wrists. From there, he guided his hands up from her butt onto the zipper of her dress.

“Here,” she told him. “Help me out of this tight dress.”

“But…” Michael began, his mind racing almost as much as his heart.

“It’s okay. I checked with the facilities guy too. There won’t be any interruptions.”

He smiled awkwardly and did as she requested, unzipping the back of her dress all the way down. Someone walking in on them at that point was only one of his concerns, but as soon as he got a glimpse of Elizabeth’s half-naked body, all those concerns disappeared.

Once the dress fell to the floor in a crumbled heap, the beautiful woman was in nothing but a black thong and overpriced heels. The sight of her smooth skin, blemish-free skin filled him with a mix of awe and desire. Her breasts, especially, caught his attention.

“Whoa,” Michael said, much to her amusement.

They were so big and round. How that dressed contained them comfortably was beyond his understanding. He doubted they were natural. He knew the signs of surgically-enhanced cleavage as well as any man with an internet connection and a healthy male libido.

He was tempted to find out for certain, but before he could even ask, Elizabeth kicked her dress aside and guided his hands onto her breasts. Beyond just confirming they were fake, they gave him an intoxicating taste of her wondrous flesh.

“Go on,” Elizabeth told him. “Feel my breasts. Squeeze them a little. Show me your strength.”

“Um…okay,” was all he could get out.

Like a kid in a candy store, Michael began fondling her breasts. He wasn’t too firm, but he wasn’t gentle either. After squeezing her butt earlier, he got the impression that she appreciated shows of strength. The way she moaned when he squeezed her luscious tits, giving the nipples a little pinch for good measure, further affirmed that sentiment.

“Mmm…that’s it. I like that!” she purred. “Your hands a strong. Strength comes from ambition. Ambition comes from desire…really powerful desire.”

“Powerful…yeah,” Michael said distantly.

It sounded like a mind game, but it worked. He soon found himself rubbing and kneading her breasts with more fervor, really enjoying the way they felt in his hands. He wanted it…desired it. As such, he seized it. Doing so didn’t just fuel his arousal. It made him feel stronger.

It seemed to have a similar effect on Elizabeth. As she moaned, she reached between his legs again and rubbed the bulge in his pants. He felt his dick tense under her touch again, reflecting another growing desire. As that feeling intensified between them, she leaned in a bit closer and kissed the side of his face before. Then, she whispered something into his ear.

“Undo your belt, unzip your pants, and sit down on the table,” Elizabeth said. “I’m going to suck your dick.”

“Is that supposed to make me stronger?” he asked

“In a sense,” she replied.

Whether or not that was part of the mind games didn’t matter to Michael at that point. Now feeling both aroused and motivated, he did as she asked. He released his grip on her breasts, albeit reluctantly, and undid his pants. He couldn’t get them off fast enough, even fumbling somewhat to push them down his legs along with his underwear. The presence of a raging boner didn’t help, but being so motivated, he got them off.

“Hmm…I see some of your strength is already endowed,” she teased upon seeing his erect dick.

“Somehow, I think I’m going to need more,” Michael said as he sat up on the table.

“That’s why I’m here…in a sense.”

She snickered seductively, carrying herself like a temptress and a guide. Michael could honestly say he’d never been more motivated to see where this went, with or without his pants on.

Once on the table, his pants falling off his legs in the process, Elizabeth dropped to her knees and positioned herself between his legs. She showed plenty of ambition of her own, grasping the base of his cock with one hand and reaching into her panties with another. He saw plenty of desire in her as well, not to mention uncanny sex appeal.

“Time to taste the extent of your strength,” she said, licking her lips in ambition. “Let’s see if I can bring a little extra out!”

“I’d…like to see that too,” said Michael.

That sounded less confident than he’d hoped, but that didn’t dissuade the ambitious woman. With the kind of intent that any businessperson would respect, she leaned in and enveloped his cock with her mouth. As soon as he felt those soft lips and wet tongue on his shaft, he leaned back on the table and moaned.

“Ohhh fuck!” he gasped. “That’s…real strong.”

She responded by unleashing a focused onslaught of oral sex, sucking and licking his member with a skill that was nothing short of professional. Given his situation, seeking to prove his own profession competence, there was something uniquely fitting about that.

From feeling so uptight and tense mere moments ago, Michael felt a welcome wave of contentment as steady streams of pleasure coursed up through his body. That feeling of hot, slithering bliss around his manhood left him feeling empowered as well as aroused. He eventually had to remove his blazer to better-cope with the heat. However, as good as it felt, he still wanted more.

There was that ambition within him…that powerful desire that went beyond a simple want. Getting his dick sucked by a beautiful woman during a work day was nice, but there was potential for so much more and he sought to realize it.

“Mmm…Elizabeth,” Michael grunted, “That feels so good, but…”

“But what?” she asked, briefly ceasing her sucking, but still stroking his cock.

“I want more,” he told her.

“You want more?”

“No!” he said with more intent. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to fuck you on this table. I’m going to fuck you hard. And I’m going to fuck you until we come.”

“And that’s what you desire?”

“Fuck desire! That’s what’s going to happen. I’m certain of it.”

Michael said those words with more strength than anything he’d ever uttered to that point in his life. It surprised him much more than Elizabeth. If anything, Elizabeth seemed smug about it, as though her suspicions of him had been vindicated.

Regardless of vindication, she gave his cock one last lick before rising back to her feet. She then casually slid her panties down her thighs, revealing her perfectly-groomed womanhood, which had been fondled to full arousal during her oral teasing.

“Very well, Mr. Young,” Elizabeth said in an official tone. “Do as you say. Use your strength to realize that certainty.”

“Oh I intend to do all that and then some!”

Flushed with confidence, arousal, and overall desire to fuck a beautiful woman, Michael got up off the desk and took the now-naked Elizabeth in his arms. She kept goading him with that seductive gaze of hers, daring him to fuck her as hard as he promised and then some. He had every intention of delivering.

With strength radiating from every muscle, he turned her around and bend her over the conference room table. Her breasts now mashed up against the polished wood and her heart-shaped butt pointed towards him, Michael grabbed her by the hips and positioned himself behind her.

There was no hesitation or reservation of any kind. As soon as the tip of his dick made contact with her wet opening, he drove his hips forward, thrusting his rigid length into her womanly depths. That hot feeling of her flesh surrounding his was incredible. Moreover – and more importantly, with respect to his pending interview – it brought out a new strength within him.

“Ooh Michael!” the beautiful woman gasped. “Your dick…so deep and powerful. I love it!”

The sound of her voice – and the message her words conveyed, more so – inspired Michael to fuck Elizabeth with more energy than he had ever dared with a woman. He treated the act of having sex with her as the most important, meaningful task in his life at that moment. If the sheer volume of her moans were any indication, that effort showed.

He was intense, but not rough with his motions, imparting a unique intensity into each thrust. The way her body rocked with each movement, her nails raking down the wood as her naked skin rubbed up against the table, reverberated with his passionate energy. It wasn’t just the sex itself that conveyed the feeling. He made full use of his hands, reaching around with one to fondle her clitoris and using the other to squeeze her butt.

It didn’t just reflect his desire. It demonstrated his certainty with respect to delivering as he promised. He was going to fuck her. He was going to make her climax. There was no doubt or uncertainty. It was going to happen and he was going to make it happen. No other thought crossed his mind.

“You’re going…to come,” Michael grunted in between thrusts. “I’m going to…make you…come!”

Every thrust of his hips, providing the heated rhythm of his manly flesh pumping into her feminine depths, pushed her closer to that goal. The way she bucked her hips and arched her back helped supplement his motions, reflecting her own desire to achieve that same peak. Through that focused desire, shared by a common motivation, he sent Elizabeth to the brink of orgasm.

“Oohhh Michael!” she panted. “You’re…you’re going to do it! You’re going to…make me…come!”

He barely heard those words and the moans that came with it. Michael was so focused that the world around him became muted. He just kept working his hips, fucking her pussy and fondling her clit until she crossed that special threshold.

When it finally happened, there was no ambiguity. The beautiful, voluptuous woman closed her eyes, threw her head back, and let out a cry of ecstasy as she achieved her climax. Michael finally slowed his thrusting, enjoying the fruits of his labor.

“I did it,” he said. “I am that strong.”

He couldn’t help but grin in accomplishment, feeling he pussy throb around his cock while her euphoric moans echoed throughout the room. Beyond just making a beautiful woman come, Michael felt a rush of confidence he didn’t know he had. It was like tapping into a hidden well of energy, filling him with something he didn’t quite understand, but embraced none-the-less.

From that intense rush, he also recalled his lingering desire, which remained unsatisfied. Having given Elizabeth her taste of ecstasy, he was ready to embrace his own.

“Now, I’m going to keep fucking you,” Michael told her. “I’m going to fuck you until I come and I’m going to shoot my load on your tits.”

“Yes…do it, Michael!” Elizabeth said, still drunk on the ecstasy.

It sounded like she hadn’t forgotten her desires, either. There was no way an ambitious woman like her would’ve been satisfied with just getting fucked to orgasm. She sought more than that and so did he.

Making use of his newfound strength, he took Elizabeth by the waist and repositioned her, turning her around and lifting her up slightly off the floor. He then set her on the table, pushing her legs apart so he had a clear path back into her pussy.

Without hesitation, he got between her legs again and thrust his dick back into her throbbing depths. Now leaning back on her arms, Elizabeth locked her gaze with his. That intensity in her eyes that he’d seen earlier was stronger than ever. Unlike before, though, he matched it every step of the way.

“That’s it, Michael. Fuck me!” Elizabeth urged. “Fuck me with that strength of yours!”

“That what you call…motivation?” he said, matching her tone.

“Fuck yes!”

He wasn’t sure if that was confirmation or just him hitting an extra sensitive spot in her pussy that supplemented her post-orgasmic state. Michael didn’t bother speculating. He just their sex, focusing once again and delivering as he said.

He was more fervent and direct with his humping, really working his manhood inside her with unfretted desire. Holding onto her thighs, watching her breasts bounce every time he rocked her body with his movements, he didn’t just pursue that ultimate peak. He charged towards it at full speed. The end result was a direct path to that sweet, euphoric release.

“Ohhh yeah!” Michael grunted as he felt the coming onslaught. “I’m ready, Elizabeth.”

“Me too, my future executive.”

Her choice of words just added more satisfaction to the blissful rush that followed. As soon as he was in a position to blow his load, he withdrew his cock, pulled Elizabeth’s body closer to his, and aimed his throbbing manhood at her breasts.

Holding his dick in both hands, he let out a deep, powerful grunt as he released his manly fluid onto her amble cleavage. An eruption of intense, empowering pleasure followed. Elizabeth, not content to play a passive role, pressed them together to gather up every drop. She even rubbed them up against his cock, adding an extra level of intimacy to this act of strength.

“There!” Elizabeth said with triumphant confidence. “That’s how I know you have the necessary desire.”

“Yeah…that’s a lot of desire,” Michael said breathlessly.

“And now you’re motivated to pursue it. Am I right?”

Michael needed a moment to come down from his orgasmic peak. His legs were weak, his dick throbbed, and light ripples of pleasure were still reverberating throughout his body. He’d also wrinkled his dress shirt and tie, thanks to the sweat he’d worked up, but that didn’t bother him in the slightest.

As he leaned on the table, the naked Elizabeth still sitting there with her legs casually draped over the edge, he came to a realization. In doing so, all that doubt and anxiety that had made him a nervous wreck seemed so trivial. It was no longer a matter of whether or not his interview would go well. He already knew the outcome.

“You’re right,” he told her. “I know what I want and desire. I’m going to that interview, I’m getting that promotion, and I’m going to be the strongest goddamn executive this company has ever known.”

“Spoken like a man of strength and confidence,” Elizabeth said proudly.

“And it’s all thanks to your sexy brand of motivation,” said Michael as he began getting dressed. “I’m ready now. I’m not just confident, this time. I’m certain!”

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Recalling The Time I Felt Most Emasculated

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Everybody has a few low points in their lives that they would prefer to forget. Even the richest, most privileged among us have moments where they feel like a wounded deer in a den of hungry wolves. I’ve certainly had my share of those days. While the pain they’ve caused me has waned over the years, I still remember them as clearly as they day they happened.

Talking about those moments is never easy. Most are content to keep them buried in the past and not think about them, a tactic favored by eccentric mad scientist cartoon characters. However, I believe there is some therapeutic value to revisiting those moments. Some of them can even offer insights that are more relevant today than they were when they happened.

In that spirit, I’d like to share one the greatest low points I ever had. What makes it relevant, though, isn’t that it was just especially bad. This one particular point marked the time in my life when I felt most emasculated, as a man.

Seeing as how I’ve talked a great deal about masculinity, from the way it has been demonized by ongoing social trends to the double standards that affect it, I think moments like this stand out more than they would have in previous years. I’ve even found myself recalling these moments more lately, but this particular moment tends to hit me the hardest.

To understand this memory and why it left me feeling so emasculated, I need to establish the situation. It takes place back when I was in grade school, specifically the fifth grade. That’s an important detail because this is a time when most kids are on the cusp of puberty and just learning what it means to mature from a kid to an adult.

Even before this particular event, I wasn’t handling that transition as well as I’d hoped. I had some attitude problems back then. I wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but I had a nasty habit of getting defensive. I would take things way too personally and overreact way too easily, even by the standards of a fifth grader.

As a result, this left me with few friends and more than a few enemies. I won’t say they were outright bullies, but they were close and I did everything I could go to goad them. My social skills were just that poor and my insecurities were just that great.

All those issues culminated near the end of the school year when my class took part in this big Civil War project that was supposed to be fun. The way it worked was we all picked names out of a hat to represent notable Civil War figures. Then, we would act out those roles in a make-shift activities, the last one being this big mock battle outside using water balloons.

It should’ve been fun. It was late May, the weather was warm, and we’d have an excuse throwing water balloons at each other. For me, though, it turned into one of the worst moments of my pre-adult life. I still consider it one of the most damaging moments of my life, to date.

Back when we were picking names out of a hat, I had the misfortune of picking the name of a woman. The name of the woman was Louisa May Alcott and, for all the wrong reasons, I’ve come to shutter at that name. That’s not to criticize her place in history, but picking that name really made that project a nightmare.

I tried to get another name, but my teacher wouldn’t let me. In hindsight, I could understand why. There were a lot of girls in that class stuck with male roles and there were only a few female roles to go around. I couldn’t even trade with someone. She basically told me to suck it up and go with it.

That, alone, was tough because I was the only boy in that class stuck with a female role. Needless to say, I got made fun of pretty quickly. Thanks to my attitude and immaturity at the time, I did everything possible to make it worse.

Throughout the project, I felt very uncomfortable playing this role and didn’t do a very good job. No matter what I did, I just gave everyone another reason to make fun of me and I reacted in a way that just gave them more incentive. In many ways, it was my fault for letting it get that bad. There were easy solutions, though, and my teachers never did a damn thing to help me.

Finally, on the day of the water balloon fight, it all came to ahead. I had already been in a bad mood that day and I did a lousy job of hiding it. As a result, I heard some kids talking about how they’d gang up on me and target me alone with their water balloons. It left me genuinely scared that I was going to be completely humiliated.

That might have been paranoia on my part, but it was more than enough to make me sit it out. When we were lining up to start the water balloon fight, I slipped away and sat down near the back wall of the school. I don’t remember if I told my teacher. I’m pretty sure I got knocked down a grade for not participating, but I wasn’t thinking about that.

However, that wasn’t the worst part. Shortly after the water balloon fight started, some of the kids from my class started mocking me from far. They started calling out, “Hi Louisa!” None of them ran up to me and threw their water balloon at me, but the damage had been done.

It was at that moment, all those kids laughing at me and calling me that woman’s name, where the distress I felt turned into outright emasculation. Make no mistake. There is a difference. Just being embarrassed is hard enough for anyone. Being emasculated, though, feels much more personal.

Regardless of how you feel about gender being a social construct or the faults in masculine standards, our gender is very much a part of who we are. Being a man is part of who I am, more so than me being a comic book fan or an aspiring erotica/romance writer. When I feel like that part of me is under attack, the damage runs much deeper.

Hearing those voices from my classmates and the laughter that followed didn’t just make me feel upset, sad, and angry. I suddenly felt less than human, lacking the qualities of men and women alike. I had no sense of worth, dignity, or identity. I felt like a wounded animal, just waiting to get eaten.

I tried to shut it out. I just kept my head down and stared at my shoes the entire time, trying with all my might not to break down and cry on the spot. I managed to avoid that, thankfully. I don’t doubt that would’ve made the moment even worse.

I’m also grateful that one of the school counselors stopped by and sat next to me. I think her presence was what stopped the chanting. She talked to me, but I don’t remember her saying anything that made me feel better. I just sat there and waited for the day to end.

Eventually, it did. I got through it and moved forward, but that moment still left quite a few scars that took a long time to heal. After that day, I became much more of a shut-in. I stopped talking in class. I stopped trying to make friends. I basically shut myself off as much as possible, saying as little as I could to get through the day.

I’m not saying that moment was completely responsible for my poor social skills, which would carry on through high school where a terrible acne problem helped compound my situation. However, I do think it set the tone. It damaged my sense of self, both in terms of my gender and of the person I was growing into.

It took a long time and a lot of work, complete with the undying support of my friends and family, to recover from that moment. When I think back on it now, I feel like it has greater meaning at a time when masculinity is seen as inherently negative. Having had my masculinity attacked at one point, I understand how damaging it can be.

These days, it’s not uncommon to hear people decry and demean men, as a whole. There have been women who advocated for the outright murder of men. They’ve been brushed off, not unlike how my teachers brushed off my discomfort on that fateful day. However, if a man even shows a hint of misogyny, they’re outright vilified. Just ask Henry Cavill.

That gives the impression that it’s okay to make a man feel emasculated, but you’re an outright monster if you make a woman feel offended in any way. It’s as though our gender determines how much compassion we get. That’s not just unfair. That’s unjust to an egregious extent.

I’ve since come to terms with what happened that day. I acknowledge that I was responsible for how parts of it played out, but there were also factors I couldn’t control and it hurt me on a deeply personal level. I don’t doubt for a second that plenty of men out there have found themselves in similar positions, feeling so low and utter unmasculine that it’s downright traumatic.

Nobody deserves to feel that way, regardless of their gender. I hope that by sharing my experience, other men will feel comfortable sharing theirs as well. There may still be those who hear stories like this and roll their eyes, thinking a man’s pain just cannot compare to that of a woman or someone who is transgender. To those people, I would say that pain is pain. It doesn’t care about your gender. It still hurts all the same.

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Filed under gender issues, human nature, Jack Fisher's Insights, psychology, sex in society, sexuality

Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Men’s Fashion Edition

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Growing up, I didn’t care much for fancy suits. In fact, I often avoided wearing them whenever I had to go to some fancy occasion like a wedding or party. In time, however, I came to appreciate the finer points of men’s fashion. As an adult, I’ve even had fun with refining my wardrobe and ensuring I look like the kind of man who takes care of himself.

It may be superficial, but there’s a logical purpose to it. How you dress affects how others see you. You send a message about yourself when you show up to an event in a clean suit that you’ve taken the time to wash, press, and accessorize. It further shows that you’re willing to put resources into your image.

That matters to people and I’m not just referring to women. The way you dress and groom yourself conveys just how eager you are to embrace this crazy world we live in. Show others that you’re willing to put in the work and they’ll be more likely to share in the rewards. I can personally attest to how much this affects the way you feel, especially around those of the opposite sex.

I personally own multiple suits and a set of ties that I probably overpaid for. I also make it a point to overdress for informal occasions, if only to stand out in the right ways. If that makes me weird, so be it. That’s why I’m dedicating my Sexy Sunday Thoughts this week to men’s fashion and those who put in the effort. It doesn’t always show, but it sends the right message about the kind of man you are. Enjoy!


“Logistically speaking, unattractive men are more likely to fuck better because they have more incentives to make it count.”


“Sweat during sex is like grease on pizza in that it’s an unavoidable, yet delicious byproduct of something great.”


“When you think about it, big tits are the only pop-up ads that men don’t mind seeing.”


“A woman’s flexibility during sex is directly linked to her lover’s ability to help her exercise it.”


“The female capacity for multiple orgasms ensures that lesbians will always have the edge in terms of sexual stamina.”


“In principle, an orgy in which everyone is satisfied is the truest manifestation of democracy.”


“Seeing a sex therapist is a lot like getting tech support for your genitals.”


I hope that got everyone feeling as bold on this beautiful Sunday morning as I do when I put on a freshly-pressed suit. It’s a special feeling, one that men and women alike can appreciate. No matter what day it is or what occasion you face, looking sharp and well-groomed will make it better. Few men can ever be like James Bond, but at the very least, you can look at fancy as him.

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