Tag Archives: Jack Fisher

Daily Sexy Musing: Early Morning Loving

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When people contemplate the perfect time to make love, they rarely single out early morning hours. More often than not, the morning is the time for afterglow. It’s the time when you and your lover relax, reflect, and enjoy the memories of the love you’d made the night before. I completely respect and appreciate that approach. It can definitely work.

However, I am a morning person. I feel like that’s an increasingly rare personality type these days. When I tell people I’m a morning person, they look at me as though I just told them I have a pet dragon in the trunk of my car. I don’t deny that it’s difficult to be a morning person. If it weren’t, the coffee industry wouldn’t be a $74 billion a year industry.

It’s still possible and I know this from personal experience. My ex-girlfriend in college was the same. I can even attest that we were at our most affectionate in the early hours of the morning. That was when we had the most energy and drive. I like to think we made good use of it. I hope others do the same.

I imagine the majority of people reading this don’t consider themselves morning people. Those that are appreciate that unique feeling that comes with becoming fully awake and feeling so focused that you can do anything with your day. When you’ve got a lover who’s wired the same way, things can get pretty sexy. This Daily Sexy Musing offers some intimate insights into this increasingly unique mentality. Enjoy!

The sun rises.

The alarm sounds.

Our spirits awaken.

Our bodies follow suit.

My day begins on the highest of notes. I open my eyes and you’re the first thing I see. Mere hours ago, we crawled under the sheets, tired and drained from the previous day. We had the passion, but not the energy to express our love. Now, as the light from the sunrise creeps through the window, a spark ignites.

I lean in and kiss you.

You cuddle up to me and kiss back.

Our naked skin makes contact.

We arouse one another for the day that awaits.

There’s no need for an elaborate journey. Fancy clothes, excessive makeup, and expensive activities are an afterthought. We’re already at the finish line. What we seek is already within our grasp. We’ll never be as alert or energized as we are right now. Why not make the most of it?

The warm light, the crisp air, and our disheveled disposition gives us all the right incentives. While others battle restlessness and dismay, we lay a strong, passionate foundation for our day. It may start with a kiss and an embrace, but that’s not where it stops. We dare to make that foundation stronger.

The warmth from the sun spreads.

The sheets of our bed ruffle.

The touch of our bodies intensifies.

The sinews enmesh in a glorious celebration.

What others see as a culmination for a day, we see as an inspiration. Whereas the morning brings dread for some, we use its refreshing spirit to forge our own path. Already, we are ahead of the game. We’ve savored our desert before we’ve had our first meal. We made waking up the best part of our day. Everything else can only make it better.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Dirty Loving

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Love is sweet, but sex is dirty. That’s one of the first things you notice when you start consuming romantic media. Even though society has become more sex positive in recent years, there’s no avoiding generations of innuendo and connotations that links sex with all things dirty. Even some aspects of love get caught up in that comparison.

It can be frustrating, and even a little annoying, to see such Puritanical themes in romance, but there are also times when it feels fitting. When you get right down to it, the sexy moments we share with our lovers are objectively dirty. There’s nudity, touching, kissing, and the swapping of various body fluids. It doesn’t always happen on a warm bed with clean bed sheets, either.

There are times when getting dirty is exactly what a moment needs to gain that extra-sexy aura. Sure, there’s plenty of appeal to getting frisky with your lover in the Presidential Suite of a Four Seasons hotel on a private island in the Caribbean. There’s also some appeal to slipping into a dark, dirty broom closet that smells like bleach and dust to get intimate.

It speaks to just how flexible, imaginative, and kinky we can be in exercising our sexy side. That process often requires that we shed the clean, refined traditions we assume are so vital and channel our nasty side. It takes many forms and can make for some incredibly hot moments. This Daily Sexy Musing is my personal dive into those dirty, filthy, disgusting moments that we still love. Enjoy!

The air is muggy.

The floor is dirty.

The lighting is poor.

The mood is tense.

Everything around us so unkempt, devoid of polish or refinement. It’s like the wildness has invaded our domain and won handily, reverting our civilized structures to decrepit relics. To anyone else, it’s the least desirable domain. For us, it is the ultimate destination.

Here, we need not be formal.

Here, we need not be elaborate.

Here, we need not be dignified.

Beneath our clean clothes and groomed flesh, we are the same animals that once rolled around in filth, unashamed and unafraid. No amount of soap, polish, or refinement can wash away our primal nature. Nothing can be done to silence that urge to just throw it all away and run towards the dirtiness.

I take your hand, sweaty and unwashed. We shed all fear and reservation of all things unclean. Sweat, saliva, and grime no longer repulse us. Instead, we savor the unrefined feeling, tapping into instincts long hidden. This filthy domain tried to dissuade us. Instead, we make it our own.

Every kiss is messy and sloppy.

Every touch is unguided and unabashed.

Every sound is raw and animalistic.

The dirt becomes our bed and the dank air becomes our blanket. Free and untamed, we smother each other in our own filth. I taste your truest self and you taste mine. Like unrefined sweets, it confounds our senses, but exhilarates our passions.

Inspired by unclean thoughts and actions, we let the filth collect on our flesh. What takes us such time and effort to clean is sullied so quickly and with great ease. There’s no need to be careful or restrained.

You want our love to get raw.

You want our bodies to messy.

I answer your filthy desires.

I proceed to dirty you from head to toe.

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Memorial Day 2019 Edition

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There’s no getting around it. War and conflict have shaped human society in ways that are impossible to overstate. The people who end up fighting in those conflicts often pay a high price for their role. Some end up paying with their lives while others pay through the trauma that follows them home.

That’s part of what makes Memorial Day such an important occasion. Most people are related to or know someone who has served. It takes a special kind of spirit to serve one’s country. It’s not just about being willing and able to venture to foreign battlefields in the name of their country. Soldiers have something unique that helps them serve the way they do.

I have multiple family members who served their country. Some of my distant relatives served in World War II. A few who are still with us served in Vietnam. That special something that helped them serve with honor is apparent. It’s something no parade can ever fully capture, but it’s still worth celebrating.

To all the veterans who have served, as well as the brave men and women serving at this very moment, I thank you for your sacrifice. You blood, sweat, and patriotism is part of what makes the way of life we’ve come to cherish possible. Let this round of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts honor you in its own special way. Enjoy!


“How someone develops a spanking fetish is often weirder than the fact they have a spanking fetish.”


“Sex needs no advertising, but requires plenty of negotiations.”


“Making out is just a PG-13 form of foreplay.”


“Hate sex is like dangerously spicy food in that it causes great discomfort, but has inescapable appeal.”


“Part of loving someone means knowing how to share a bathroom with them.”


“Being in love means having sex on a good day, but true love means doing it on your worst day.”


“At its core, flirting is asking someone to help you have an orgasm.”


Once again, thank you to all the brave men and women who have served their country and are currently serving. If you wish to help our country’s veterans, please consider donating to organizations like the Wounded Warrior Project and the Purple Heart Foundation. There are many ways to show love, but on Memorial Day, please make the extra effort to show them what they mean to us.

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“My Favorite Client” A Sexy Short Story (For Memorial Day)

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The following is a sexy short story that was partially inspired by some real-life anecdotes about men coping with loss with the help of sex workers. A good portion of those stories came from men who had served in the military and in the spirit of Memorial Day, I wanted to capture the beauty of those experiences.

Whether you’re a veteran or just someone who has had to find ways to cope with loss, I hope you can appreciate this. Enjoy!

“The first Thursday of the month,” Reyna Stanly said to herself, “the best day of any month in my otherwise fucked up life.”

The young woman carried herself with more energy than usual and for good reason. It was a welcome day of contentment, especially for a professional escort. As someone who lived a life of ever-evolving risks and obstacles, she understood the value of those days better than most. After the week she’d endured, she needed one.

Having arrived at the mid-level hotel a half-hour ago, Reyna made her way up to the eighth-floor suite, as she’d done many times before. She wore the same low-cut black dress that she’d worn for the past several encounters with the special client that awaited her at the end of the hall. It wasn’t too sexy. Most people who saw it wouldn’t associate it with an escort or sex worker. Walking through the lobby, she looked like someone on her way to a dinner party at an overpriced restaurant.

Compared to what most clients asked her to wear, it was a welcome touch style. It made her feel like she was playing a role rather than providing a service. For the client that awaited her – a very special, very important client that she’d come to cherish – she took great pride in playing that role. It meant almost as much as her as it did to him.

“If only everyone in my life appreciated my dedication as much as you, Willie,” Reyna sighed as she approached the door.

As she prepared for the not-so-typical job before her, she lamented that the most decent male role model in her life was someone she’d met while escorting. It would’ve been hilarious if it weren’t true, but from where she came from, role models were hard to come by.

Her father had walked out on her mother and sister when she was six. After that, her mother went onto date a string of loser guys, eventually marrying one who could help pay off her gambling debts. It hadn’t been out of the goodness of his heart, though. That man, who she still refused to call her father, only kept her out of debt so she wouldn’t give him any crap out about cheating on her.

Her older sister followed a similar path, attracting all the wrong men before marrying the one who got her pregnant in high school, albeit after some heated coaxing. Theirs was not a stable marriage, to say the least. They fought more than they loved, cheated on each other so often that Reyna could practically set her watch to it. She escaped that environment the first chance she got.

However, her judgement hadn’t been that much better than her mother or sister. In high school, she’d played the part of the class slut, hooking up with multiple men and having a long string of empty relationships. Most of that was her way of staying away from home, but it came at the price of attracting men who cared more about easy sex than genuine intimacy. Whether by bad luck or family tradition, Reyna and her family never seemed to cross paths with the kind of men who were worth loving.

“Guess that’s more my fault than yours,” she said under her breath, lingering at the door as she checked her phone. “You were just looking to mend a broken heart. I was looking for easy money. Now, here I am…needing you as much as you need me.”

It was tragic, but oddly fitting. She’d gone most of her life knowing few good men. Then, she left home, got into a local college, and started making her own money as an escort with the goal of never having to rely on a man. Willie Mavin didn’t necessarily derail that goal, but he certainly complicated it and for all the right reasons.

As she knocked on the door, Reyna felt like needed to affirm those reasons. Having had so many poor influences on her, she had to cling to the few good ones she still had.

“Come in,” said the familiar voice from inside the room.

Smiling for the first time all week, Reyna entered the room and into her role. At that moment, she was no longer Reyna Stanly, the trashy young woman who made her living as a whore for men with no time for a mistress. She became Mandi, the affectionate young woman who reminded a lonely man of better times.

“Mandi,” said a tall, lanky, middle-aged figure sitting on the bed, “you’re as stunning as ever.”

“You’re too kind, Willie…way too kind,” she replied in a voice that blurred the lines between fantasy and reality.

Upon closing the door behind her, making sure to lock it and place the “do not disturb” tag on the handle, she set aside her purse and made her way to king size bed where her favorite client awaited her.

“I’ve missed you,” she told him, mixing the traditional script of an escort with honest sentiment. “You make the first Thursday of every month something I look forward to.”

“So do you,” said Willie as he gazed at her with that loving admiration.

“This past month has been especially tough. I need this as much as you do.”

“I believe you.”

She’d heard that from men before, pretending they could empathize with her plight. She rarely believed it, especially from clients. However, Reyna made an exception for Willie.

She also made an exception when it came to embracing a client. She didn’t just stand in front of him, posing like a model in hopes of tempting him into paying for another hour. She immediately joined him on the bed, slipping into his arms and sitting on his lap. She barely even noticed the empty envelope containing her payment on the nightstand. Willie never short-changed her or abused her trust. Very few men in her life could make such a claim.

“You seem tense, Mandi,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist and caressed her face. “Is everything alright?”

“It is now,” Reyna replied with a reassuring smile. “Try not to worry about me. I’m here for you, remember?”

“You make that difficult to forget,” Willie said as he smiled back.

“Then, I must be doing my part exceptionally well.”

“You do more than that, Mandi…much more.”

He embraced her closer, holding her as he would a cherished lover. He was so affectionate and tender, kissing her neck and taking in her scent, which she’d augmented with her best perfume. It was enough to get her heart racing as she returned his affection, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him deeper into her intimate warmth.

Reyna knew how it must have looked from an outside perspective. Anyone observing them at that moment wouldn’t have seen anything other than a tall, slender man in his late 40s with graying hair holding a young female escort in her early 20s. It had all the qualities of a typical encounter between a sex worker and an older man. She wouldn’t have blamed anyone for seeing it as anything other than some guy wanting to get frisky with a cute young woman.

However, there was much more at work than a man willing to pay for sex and a woman willing to accept money for it. Some of it showed in the clothes he wore. Like her, Willie wore the attire that evoked his fondest memories. That included a neatly-pressed dress shirt with military emblems, a clip-on tie, and navy-blue slacks that had just been dry cleaned the other day. It gave him the presence of a man who knew how to take care of himself and valued how he presented himself to others.

He’d learned that skill in the military and still carried himself like an honorable, disciplined soldier. That kind of ability and self-respect did plenty to set Willie apart, but those were just the most obvious qualities she admired. The rest ran much deeper.

“This week has been especially lonely,” Willie said after he finished kissing er. “It would’ve been our wedding anniversary on Monday. My son tried to visit so we could spend some time together, but his flight got cancelled.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Reyna said. “I hope he makes it up to you.”

“He will. He’s a good young man, just like his brother. I’m not worried about him. I’m just focused on you…on us.”

“And I intend to do nothing less.”

True to her word, a trait any competent escort valued, Reyna dove deeper into her role. Caressing his unshaven face with both hands, she kissed him with a soft, but sensual passion on the lips.

It was not the kind of kiss she shared with other clients. It was genuine and loving, akin to something a dear lover would give to someone who they’d missed. Almost immediately, it had an impact. She sensed his tension settle. The rugged, manly musk of her breath helped her settle too.

“My darling, Mandi,” Willie gasped with an intensity few men dared to show, even with an escort.

Her heart skipped a beat. She still wasn’t used to that, especially with a client. Reyna wasn’t sure she wanted to get used to it. The way Willie held her and the way he kissed her triggered something in her that she didn’t think she could feel for a man, even before she became an escort.

As the kiss deepened, those feelings intensified. Before long, a kiss was no longer sufficient.

“Willie…sweetheart,” Reyna said, now deep into her Mandi persona.

“Yes, Mandi?” he replied, already breathless.

With a coy grin and the taste of his lips still lingering, she broke the embrace and turned around so that he could see the back of her dress.

“Would you please unzip me?” she asked him. “This dress feels so…burdensome.”

“Of course, my dear,” Willie replied without hesitation.

Like a gentleman, he did as she requested, unzipping her dress with the utmost care. He wasn’t like some horny guy eager to get a girl naked. He was so careful, highlighting every inch of newly exposed flesh.

Once he reached the bottom of the dress, she stood up and let it fall off her body. In doing so, Reyna revealed she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Upon stepping out of her dress, kicking off her heels in the process, the only article of clothing she had left was a pair of black lace panties. When she turned around, giving him a perfect view of her feminine features, the awe in his eyes was profound.

“Wow,” said Willie in a daze. “You’re as beautiful as I remember…a sight I never get tired of.”

Reyna just smiled curtly as he gazed upon her, leaning back on his arms and taking in every feature. He’d seen her naked many times before, but she knew Willie wasn’t just referring to her natural beauty when he saw her voluptuous form. In his eyes, he wasn’t looking at Mandi, the escort he paid for a night of intimate company. He was looking at Mandi, his deceased wife.

“I miss you…so much,” he said with a hint of sorrow in his tone.

“Oh Willie,” she said, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

That was only half-true. She knew she wasn’t Amanda, the woman he’d married right out of high school and loved with all his heart until she succumbed to cancer. He had to know that too, but it didn’t matter at that moment. As far as they were both concerned, the harsh reality of their respective lives didn’t apply within the walls of the hotel suite. For just a brief moment, they could enjoy a quiet moment of intimacy.

“You’re here,” Willie said, tears already forming in his eyes. “God, I want you.”

“I want you too, Willie,” she told him.

Her role made room for her skills as an escort. With a seductive poise that she’d refined from her promiscuous past, she slipped back onto his lap, straddling his waist and grinding her groin up against his pelvis. That got the blood flowing to the lower half of his body. It also prompted a flood of amorous affection.

“My sweet, Mandi,” he gasped. “My sweet, beautiful Mandi.”

It was tough to maintain that seductive mood when he was so loving with his gestures. Willie was always more tender than most of her clients, but there was something different about the way he touched her exposed upper body. He playfully fondled her breasts, buried his face in her neck, and traced his fingers down her waist and hips, as if to paint an image in his mind.

“Mandi…I see you,” Willie gasped as he kissed her.

“So do I,” she whispered into his ear.

The foreplay quickly intensified. As Willie felt around her exposed upper body, she began loosening his clothes, removing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. It played out like so many other encounters she’d experienced with clients, but there was deeper story unfolding between them.

Reyna had come to know the details of that story well. Since he became a regular, she’d learned a great deal about the role she played. Amanda Mavin, the woman Willie saw whenever they were together, was a very different woman than the one she’d become. She wasn’t just a loving mother and supportive wife. She’d been a gifted artist, a college professor, and an adventurous traveler.

Willie claimed she saw the world as a work of art worth admiring and exploring. She’d taken him to so many wonderful places, sharing so many passions along the way. After serving in the army, spending time in war zones and seeing so many awful things, he needed that. She helped him see and experience beauty in the world again.

When Willie first told her about Amanda, she laughed at the notion that she had anything in common with her. She doubted they even looked alike. Then, he showed her some old pictures and the resemblance was undeniable. When he told her about the kind of spirit she had and how she’d overcome a less-than-ideal upbringing, Reyna saw more and more similarities. It made the intimate experiences they shared more meaningful.

For Willie, it was a way to reconnect with the memory of a woman he loved and missed dearly. For Reyna, it started as her providing comfort and sex to a lonely widower. It soon became as therapeutic for her as it was for him. After the week she’d endured, she needed that therapy more than usual.

“Willie,” Reyna said in the midst of all the affectionate touching, “lie down on your back.”

“Of course, my darling,” he said in that deep, loving tone of his.

Having rekindled old memories and the passions connected to them, she pursued the escalating desire. After guiding him towards the center of the bed, he laid down and kicked off his dress shoes, allowing her to go to work.

She channeled more of Mandi’s spirit, removing his dress shirt, undoing his belt, and taking off his slacks. She took her time, kissing down his chest and pawing his arms. He once told her that Mandi treated lovemaking like a work of art, requiring exquisite detail and impassioned vision. Reyna never saw sex in such a colorful way, but she quickly came to appreciate that approach. Upon removing the widowers underwear, she saw how much Willie appreciated it as well

“Wow! You did miss me, Willie,” Reyna said coyly while eying his semi-erect manhood.

“What can I say? Certain parts of the human body say more than words ever well,” Willie said with a playful grin.

She smiled back at him before channeling more of that sexy spirit. She briefly hovered over him, allowing him to admire her body even more. She even dangled her breasts in his face, something he once said Amanda loved to do during intimate moments. He also once mentioned she loved it even more when she gave his penis a quick lick to prepare for their sex. With most men, Reyna would’ve assumed that was just a creative way to get oral sex. With Willie, she trusted his word.

Like a sexy angel, she lovingly kissed his lips before sensually working her way down his body. Willie kept in great shape for a man his age. All the work and travel he did with his late wife really paid off. That extended to his penis, which was already throbbing by the time she reached it.

With skilled hands and talented lips, she gave the widower a quick round of oral teasing. She was more careful than usual, sucking and stroking his member while looking up at him with affectionate eyes. It evoked a familiar, yet rewarding reaction.

“Oh Mandi…my love,” Willie moaned.

She replied with more sucking, bobbing her head up and down, making full use of her oral sex skills. Seeing the older man so happy and impassioned was a nice personal bonus and one she didn’t get with most clients. It motivated her to share in the feeling, as well. As she sucked him off, she reached into her panties and fingered herself, building up her own arousal.

As soon as she got him fully hard, she rose up from the bed and removed her panties. She also retrieved a condom that she’d stashed inside, a trick that only the savvy, most cunning escorts could pull off. After opening it and applying it to his rigid manhood, they were ready to complete the moment that they’d both come to appreciate.

“I’m ready for you, Willie,” Reyna said to him as she got back on top of him.

“Please, Mandi…I need you,” Willie said, reaching up and caressing her face.

It almost was sad, hearing the longing in his voice. She saw in his eyes how much he wanted to cling to the memory of his late wife. Even if she wasn’t that woman, he yearned to turn those joyous memories into an experience…one she could share with him.

Eager to share something so loving and intimate, Reyna positioned herself over him, straddling his waist and holding onto his torso. She locked her eyes on his, doing her best to mimic the loving gaze his wife must have given him for so many years. Then, as he slipped deeper into his memories, she lowered her hips and guided his manly flesh into her.

“Ooh Willie!” Reyna moaned out.

She was more vocal than usual, but for all the right reasons. The way he filled her depths, her womanly folds embracing his rigid manhood to the utmost, filled her with more than just the familiar sensations of sex. It turned an act of basic sexual intercourse into a truly intimate act.

“Mandi…my sweet, sweet Mandi,” Willie said joyously.

“I feel you, Willie…so deep inside me,” she gasped.

Now lost with him in the feeling and the fantasy, Reyna began moving her body in a succession of slow, sensual motions. They didn’t rock the bed or strain their bodies with their sex. There was none of that crude, mindless humping that she’d experienced so common with other clients. She put real, genuine passion into their sex.

“I need this…you need this…we need this,” Reyna found herself saying in the midst of their movements.

Having established a steady rhythm, she leaned in and kissed him lovingly, allowing their naked bodies to fully mesh. The widower returned the favor, throwing his arms around her and grabbing hold of her butt, something she’d always loved during sex. It allowed him to supplement her sensual movements with his strength, evoking more blissful sensations and deepening the intimacy.

That was a big part of what made Willie her favorite client. He made their sex – the same sex that she once treated as a simple means to an end – a truly intimate act. She thought she knew intimacy from her previous boyfriends. In serving Willie, she realized those experiences were just lust, hormones, and the pursuit of meaningless pleasure. There was nothing meaningless about what she did with Willie. It might have been the most meaningful part of her otherwise hectic life.

“That’s it, Willie…make love to me,” she whispered to him. “Make sweet, beautiful love to me.”

“I will, Mandi! I…I will!” he said eagerly.

He kissed her more passionately as she rode him with focused intent, working his rigid manhood within the moist depths of her inner domain. As he squeezed her butt, she reached down and fondled her swollen clit, wanting to share the pleasure with him. It further intensified the intimacy that they both so cherished.

As they embraced the feeling, Reyna also shared in the sensual efforts. She got a bit more playful at times, leaning back and swaying her body in a sexy dance, of sorts, that earned her a beaming smile from Willie. He did his part as well, gliding his hands over her naked flesh, making sure to give her nipples some extra attention, knowing how much she loved it.

Each movement and gesture had a purpose.

Each intimate act took them closer to their goal.

Slowly, but surely, they ascended towards their respective climax.

As it drew near, Reyna shifted their bodies so that Willie was on top, working his hips with hers with energy not topical of a man his age. She held onto his shoulders, spread her legs extra wide, and locked her eyes with his once more, urging him to finish the experience.

“Oohhh I’m close, Willie! I’m so…so close!” she told him.

“Me too, Mandi! Me…too!” Willie said with labored grunts.

“Just…just a little longer. I want us…I need us…to share this.”

For a brief moment, Reyna broke character. It might have been the first time she’d ever blurred the line between the woman she was and the woman she pretended to be while escorting. It was something she’d been taught to avoid, entangling such sentimental feelings with sex work. It might have been risky, but in that moment, it felt so right.

“Mandi…my love,” the older man gasped as he neared the threshold.

“Willie,” was all she got out before following him into that world of ecstasy.

A few more shared bodily motions was all it took. When the feeling washed over them, time seemed to stop as the line between memories and roles vanished.

It wasn’t a simultaneous climax, but it was pretty damn close. Willie got his first, letting out a sharp gasp as his grip on her hips tightened in accord with his release. Feeling that hard, throbbing flesh inside her along with the heightened intimacy helped send her over the edge as well. While Reyna had gotten fairly adept at achieving orgasm with clients, she usually had to make a concerted effort. She didn’t need much when she was with Willie.

With him, the release came to her. His heartfelt sentiment took her to that special place where ecstasy took a tangible form, each sensation reverberating through her like a wave of heat. It caused her back to arch and her toes to curl, ruffling he bedsheets every step of the way. As always, she savored every minute sensation. Unlike every other orgasm she’d experienced as an escort, the one she shared with Willie left her feeling uniquely fulfilled.

“Willie…thank you,” Reyna said in the heat of the moment.

“Mandi…I miss you,” Willie said in his orgasmic daze.

She lingered in that daze with him, if only to escape a much harsher reality with him. She kissed him and embraced him again, even after he withdrew from her and laid down beside her. Their naked bodies remained entwined as the afterglow set in. Reyna already sensed the time he’d paid for running out, but she didn’t care. She didn’t even check the clock. Escort or not, she needed that special, intimate moment with him.

“Thank you,” the older man said, still catching his breath as he held her in his arms. “I know I make things awkward…mixing memories of my wife with what we do.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Reyna told him, daring to cuddle closer with her favorite client. “You loved her. You miss her. And based on all the times we’ve done this…I can tell you two were pretty passionate.”

“We were. It’s one of the many things I miss about her,” he said with a sigh, “but those intense, intimate moments we shared over the years…I miss those the most.”

“That’s how you know your love was real. Not everyone gets to experience that kind of love, let alone appreciate it. You wanting to relieve it, even its with an escort who just happens to look like her, isn’t the least bit awkward. It’s sweet.”

“I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“Believe me, Willie…I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

 

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Daily Sexy Musing: Flowers And Roses

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As someone with a long and tortured history with allergies, I admit I’m not too fond of flowers and roses being symbols of romance. That said, I don’t outright resent it. I understand the appeal. I’ve even embraced it a time or two. It’s just hard to appreciate when romantic sentiment is mixed with itchy eyes and severe nasal congestion.

However, these are just some of the things we brave in the name of romance. Back in college, I remember picking up my girlfriend from the airport so we could spend our first Spring Break together. I was excited, nervous, and anxious for any number of reasons. In an effort to set the mood, I bought her some flowers and gave them to her she arrived.

Without getting too heavy into personal details, I’ll say those flowers definitely helped. To this day, that was one of my favorite Spring Breaks of all time. Flowers, roses, and all the colorful plants we associate with romance help convey a certain sentiment. There’s just something special about their beauty and their scent that puts us in the perfect romantic mood.

With spring upon us and summer fast approaching, flowers and roses of all types are in bloom. It’s still murder on my allergies, but it still sets a uniquely romantic mood that can get sexy real fast. That mood, and the romantic undertones behind it, is more than deserving of a Daily Sexy Musing. Enjoy!

There’s that smell, again.

There’s that distinct rich aroma, once more.

There’s that special feeling it evokes, so often.

For just a small fraction of a turbulent year, the changing seasons inspire natural passions. The cold, brutal nights are gone. Trees, grass, and animals awake to warmer days and fertile lands. Within that bountiful transition, fields of roses and flowers bloom. They signal to us that the time has come to emerge from our shelters and embrace a world reborn.

The sights of greener pastures and the sounds of lively fauna are joyous, but it’s that scent that hits first. We both feel the impact, as if jolted from a long slumber. In an instant, realize how much we’ve repressed and restrained ourselves. Now, it feels like nature itself is urging us to unleash our desires.

I pick up a flower.

I pick up a rose.

I inhale the sweet smell.

I present it to you.

No words need be said. The message is clear. Sweet smells, vibrant colors, and welcome warmth tell us everything we need to know. Gone are the layers of clothing that protected from the cold, but created a barrier between our flesh. With nothing to hinder us, we follow the meaning behind the scent.

It’s a fertile halo.

It’s an intimate symbol.

It’s a gift from nature.

It’s a key to greater passions.

Surrounded by warmth and scents, I take you as eagerly as you take me. Every pent-up desire comes pouring out. In a sea of flowery beauty and rosy scents, we light the spark that ignites our love. Sweet gasps mix with sweet smells. In a fertile new world, our spirits are renewed.

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Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: Wonder Woman #71

Once a week, comic book fans rejoice as pencil, ink, and imagination come together to bring us a batch of new comics. Whether they involve superheroes, gritty crime drama, sappy romance, or talking ducks in ties, great comics take many forms.

As someone who awaits every Wednesday like Christmas, I make it a point to select one comic from this crowded field that helps make the day feel uniquely festive. It doesn’t always involve superheros gods, demigods, and talking animals. This week, however, that’s exactly what “Wonder Woman #71” contains. That’s not an exaggeration. This comic contains all of that, along with a uniquely impactful story.

The Wonder Woman comics have always been more fanciful than most, even without its former allusions to BDSM. When Wonder Woman isn’t fighting alongside the Justice League or going toe-to-toe against cosmic threats like Darkseid, she often deals with the divine mischief caused by her divine heritage. Since the arrival of writer, G. Willow Wilson, there has been plenty of mischief to go around.

For the past few issues, Diana has been investigating some decadent happenings in a small town called Summergrove. At first, it doesn’t look quite as dire as some of the other godly influences that Wonder Woman has dealt with. The people of this typical community have just become a bunch of free-wielding hippies, randomly pursuing every decadent desire that enters their mind, among other things.

It’s not quite as pornographic as it sounds. Wilson manages to keep things PG-13, for the most part. However, the free loving and utter disregard for Western propriety are just part of the issue. This major disruption in a community not used to public nudity isn’t due to some sudden realization that Puritan traditions are asinine. It’s a direct result of Atlantiades, the god of lust and desire.

Aside from being the offspring of Aphrodite, as well as the kind of deity that aspiring erotica/romance writers could worship, Atalantiades presents a unique challenge to Wonder Woman. Yes, she’s causing real harm to innocent people and their families by exercising her divine power, but she’s not doing it directly, nor is she doing it out of malice.

She is, like many gods in both the world of DC Comics and beings of mythology, unaware of how her power influences frail mortal minds. She doesn’t see ordinary humans with the same care and concern as Wonder Woman. Whereas Diana respects and protects them, gods like Atalantiades pity and manipulate them.

It puts Wonder Woman in a tricky position of convincing Atalantiades that what she’s doing to the people of Summergrove is wrong. The past couple issues have steadily revealed how bad things have gotten. Families are being torn apart and the community is collapsing around itself as people just abandon their responsibilities and ignore all consequences to their action.

It may seem fun, but even the most free spirit of individuals can’t avoid consequences. That’s what it means to be human. However, Atalantiades and the rest of her divine brethren don’t understand that the way Wonder Woman does. Their divinity means they don’t have to deal with the same consequences. They only have to worry when those consequences impact other gods.

That’s another lesson that Atalantiades has to learn the hard way. While Wonder Woman helps her deal with the damage she did to Summergrove, her activities obscure another emerging conflict centered around her mother, Aphrodite. This conflict has higher stakes and greater consequences, mainly because it involves unleashing a mythical beast.

It’s this culmination of consequences that helps “Wonder Woman #71” stand out. There are plenty of stories that involve Wonder Woman fighting mythical beasts and protecting people from unholy manipulations. However, she ends up having to do both here and she can’t resolve both solely through fighting.

Wonder Woman can do a lot of incredible feats, but she doesn’t absolve people or gods of consequences, nor would she if she could. She can’t fight Atalantiades or the people she has influenced, but she can convince her to take responsibility. That’s not as easy as a simple scorn or lecture, but it does make for some revealing exchanges.

Wilson, like many other accomplished Wonder Woman writers, explore the unique and strange perspective of divine beings like Atalantiades. That’s understandable because they’re not mortal. They don’t see mortality, desire, and consequences the same way an ordinary person in the suburb sees it. In many respects, it reveals just how unique Wonder Woman is because she goes out of her way to relate to ordinary people.

Atalantiades makes clear that she doesn’t see love and desire the same way as Diana. Throughout this story arc, even other gods like Aphrodite go out of their way to denigrate Diana’s perspective on matters of love and mortals. She sees it as something empowering and intimate. They see it as something chaotic and corrupt.

Wonder Woman #71” doesn’t entirely resolve that argument, but it does make a compelling case for each side. Atalantiades demonstrates what happens when love and desire run rampant. It’s sexy and even humorous, at times, but it’s also flawed and Wonder Woman helps belabor that.

As more consequences of Atalantiades’ actions play out, Wonder Woman has a chance to make her point in other, more direct ways. This is also where the artwork of Tom Derenick and Xermanico get more vibrant as divine debates turn into divine clashes. It helps highlight how strong Wonder Woman can be with both her words and her fists.

Wonder Woman #71” is not the endgame of this larger story surrounding Atalantiades and Aphrodite, but it is definitely the most dramatic. Wilson explores some pretty heavy topics in this story, touching on gods, love, and the frail mortal beings that get caught in the crossfire. It puts Wonder Woman in some difficult situations in which her compassion has to be as strong as muscles.

As always, she rises to the occasion and inspires more awe and wonder in the process. That’s what makes her Wonder Woman.

 

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Daily Sexy Musing: Animal Loving

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Technically speaking, human beings are animals. I know there are certain individuals, especially creationists, who abhor such an association. For some, the idea of being closely associated with mere animals, let alone classified as one, just doesn’t sit well. While I’ve little respect for creationists, I can respect that sentiment to some extent.

That said, I don’t think being labeled an animal is necessarily a bad thing. In many ways, it provides an important perspective on ourselves and our place in the world. As humans, we’re capable of some pretty amazing feats. We have literally reshaped the face of this planet. At the same time, we’re still animals cut from the same mold as monkeys, dogs, cats, birds, lizards, and dinosaurs.

This extends to our love lives. I would even argue our animal nature is part of what makes our love lives so complex and kinky. Every animal goes about sex, society, and bonding in their own unique way. Humans just happened to be especially unique, but we still retain many elements of our animal nature.

At times, the greatest intimacy we experience comes when we channel our animal nature. There’s a reason why so many songs, euphemisms, and sexual positions have primal connotations. Whether we’re doing it doggie style or going at it like rabbits, we definitely have an animal side. When properly applied, it makes for amazing lovemaking. This Daily Sexy Musings should help make that case to the animal in us all.

This morning, everything was so calm. We were just two lovers, living our lives and navigating our world. Nothing was out of place. Our minds, bodies, and faculties were within our control. It was all so peaceful and serene.

Then, night came.

Then, our bodies awoke.

Then, our minds devolved.

Then, harmony gave way to chaos.

In an instant, the higher function of our human brains gives way to the base desires of our primal nature. We act on a whim and those whims are so crude. Gone are concerns about work, money, society, and propriety. In this moment, we are barely human. For the rest of the night, we are animals acting on pure, unfettered desire.

We’re dogs in heat.

We’re salmon swimming upstream.

We’re birds sounding the mating call.

On instinct, we respond to these feelings. There’s no thought or care to the details. All that matters is feeding this basic desire, following freely the primal path before us. Deeper love gives way to shallow lust. We seek no greater purpose or goal. Only a thirst for pleasure guides us.

Like hungry predators, we pounce on one another. We’re not gentle or careful. Clothes are ripped off rather than removed. There’s no caressing or teasing. Instead, we grope and grasp, indulging in the flesh that feeds the beast within us. Together, we unlock the chains and let the creature roam.

Moans become grunts.

Gasps become growls.

Words become glares.

What began as a deep human connection is now a shallow primal act. There’s no greater meaning behind our actions, nor does there need to be. Every hour of every day, we channel our humanity, just to get along with our fellow humans. When the sun sets and the doors close, we dare to unleash the animal within and savor the fruits of our beastly desires.

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