Tag Archives: Jack Fisher

Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Slow And Steady Edition

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There is a time and a place to be bold, adventurous, and daring. That applies equally to both sexy and non-sexy situations. When you’re madly in love with someone and eagerly exploring that love, you’re going to want to push yourself and your passions to make the most of it. That’s a big part of what makes dating and honeymoons so fun.

However, I would argue that those times are brief and infrequent. For pragmatic reasons, they have to be. The body, heart, and mind is only capable of so much. We’re not machines with unlimited energy. Everyone needs to pace themselves, balancing out the desire for excitement with the need for some form of stability.

It’s a challenge, even for those who aren’t in relationships. Within an ongoing romance, though, it’s one of those necessary logistics that good couples figure out. Taking things slow and steady may not sound very sexy, but it absolutely can be when done right. In some cases, it can be even sexier because the passion is draw out and savored rather than vented all at once.

I’ve known couples who are all over the place, doing anything and everything they can to keep the excitement going. It can be great for a while, but they do tend to burn themselves out. The couples I know who take things slow and steady usually last longer. It doesn’t just win races. It makes for great romance. This round of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts is my way of acknowledging that. Enjoy!


“Clumsy foreplay is like cold pizza in that it’s not ideal, but still gets the job done.”


“Quality lovemaking requires skill, but simultaneous orgasm requires teamwork.”


“Better sex is the extra-strength aspirin to a troubled relationship.”


“When you think about it, an orgy is a democratic process for orgasms.”


“Big tits are the private jets of sex appeal in that they’re the most overt display of desirable assets.”


“The only thing that keeps everyone from being a stripper is confidence in their dance skills and comfort with nudity.”


“If all drugs are gauged by how good they make us feel, then prostitutes were technically the first drug dealers.”


Every romance is different. Every love story is unique in how it unfolds. It’s easy to get impatient and even easier to get excited when you think you’ve found the one. Even then, taking things slowly can go a long way towards helping a relationship blossom. It’s like an investment and quality lovemaking are the dividends.

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“Master’s Delight” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about authority, domination, submission, and all the sexy connotations that go with it. Make no mistake. The sexy connotations are there. I’ve talked about them before. This is just a story inspired by them. Enjoy!

Authority was a tricky, but necessary component of life. Without authority, there could be no order. Without order, there could be no peace. That was the mantra that Erin Grant heard from her father since she was a child. Being an officer in the United States Marine Corp and an advocate of capable authority figures, he’d taught her and her three younger brothers the value of respecting authority.

However, as she grew into a beautiful young woman with a promising career in online marketing, Erin learned that most people didn’t appreciate authority. If anything, they went out of their way to fight it.

“Seriously, Brandy, you need to stand your ground on this. If Jay won’t set a deadline, you need to give him an ultimatum.”

“You have a short memory, Marla. My sister tried that with her now ex-fiancé last year. Weren’t you with her when she threw her suitcase out on the front lawn?”

“This is different! Jay is your co-worker, not your squeeze. You got to make clear that his authority ends where your duties begin.”

“Says the woman who’s been bossing around her boss for the past two years, which I’m sure shows up on every paycheck.”

That was just the latest in a contentious debate between Brandy Wyn and Marla Isaac, two women with whom she shared a carpool. Every day, there seemed to be some major conflict going on within their department at the company. Most of the time, it related to someone not respecting another’s authority or someone attempting to assert their own. Erin had heard it so often that she already knew how it would play out.

It started with a disagreement. It escalated into a conflict. From there, it became a heated argument about who was right and who had the power to make that decision. Ultimately, there was a compromise. However, nobody ever seemed to get what they want and if it failed, nobody dared take responsibility.

That was why Erin often stayed out of those debates. She knew her role and was content to maintain it while refining her skills in the process. Her appreciation and respect for authority ensured she remained quiet during many of those conflicts, often keeping to herself and listening to music on her phone.

“What do you think, Erin?” Brandy asked her. “You work with Jay in marketing. Should I draw the line before he can undercut me?”

“What do you mean before?” Marla scoffed. “He already has!”

Erin rolled her eyes, already regretting being dragged into the debate.

“I don’t think I can offer much, Brand,” she told her. “I work with Jay, but we don’t step on each other’s toes. If we disagree, we refer to our boss.”

“That can’t be your solution to everything,” Brandy said. “Randy is a smart guy, but I need to take point on this project. It’s how I’m going to get that promotion when Jessie retires!”

“You honestly think that’s going to tip the scales?” said Marla. “I get you want to be the boss for a change, but there’s a long list of people eying that spot and leading one project won’t put you on the inside track.”

“It sure as hell can’t hurt. If you want people to respect your voice, you got to put your foot down when you get a shot!”

The debate raged on. Erin tried not to listen. At one point, she heard Marla suggest that Brandy plant a half-empty bottle of whiskey in Jay’s desk in the hopes he’ll get drunk at the next staff meeting. It was a ridiculous idea, but one Brandy seemed to take seriously.

That was the problem with those who didn’t appreciate authority. In their efforts to oppose it, they often undermined it and themselves in the process. In the end, nobody won. Nobody trusted anybody to deliver in their duties. Erin felt like an anomaly with the way she respected authority. Then again, given just how much she respected it compared to everyone around her, she probably was.

She managed to shut out the rest of the debate until she arrived at the quiet suburban house she shared with her husband, Robert. After checking her watch, Erin saw that she was right on time for what she and her love had planned for the evening. She couldn’t get out of the van fast enough.

“Have a nice night, Erin,” said Patrick, the driver of the van.

“You too,” Erin said politely.

“And give some thought to how we can mind-fuck Jay tomorrow!” Marla added. “We need a plan.”

“I’ll…give it some though,” she said with a half-grin.

“Yeah right,” scoffed Brandy.

The two women looked like they were in for a restless and miserable evening. Erin tried not to pity them too much. It wasn’t her fault their approach to confronting authority was so strenuous. Not many shared her attitudes towards it and with every passing year, fewer and fewer people seemed to appreciate it.

“If only they knew,” Erin said under her breath as she entered the front door. “Getting what you want doesn’t mean fighting authority. In fact, you can get plenty when you embrace it.”

Smiling to herself as she closed the door behind her and set her stuff aside, she checked her watch to ensure she was still on schedule. Whereas her co-workers agonized over how to seize authority for themselves, she intended to take a different approach to fulfilling her goals.

True to her punctual nature, Erin took out her phone and sent a text message to her husband to let her know they were on track. Afterwards, she kicked off her shoes, walked over to the kitchen, and plugged her phone into its charger. She then got herself a quick drink of water, assuming she would need to be hydrated for the night’s activities. Before she finished the glass, though, her phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from her husband. It contained only a few words with simple instructions.

“I’m ready. Come on down.”

Already, Erin felt the excitement in her brewing. Her heart raced with anticipation. The prospect of an eventful evening to balance out another mundane day at the office had uncanny appeal, but pursuing it meant doing so required an entirely different approach to authority.

“Not everything needs to be taken,” Erin said as she placed her glass aside. “Some of the greatest rewards in life are given…if you’re willing to trust others to give them.”

Vast rewards awaited and Erin eagerly pursued them. Following her excitement, she made her way to the basement entrance in the foyer. Outside, it looked like just another door within a suburban house. However, few doors had a small camera hanging over it or a heavy electronic lock from the other side. The neighbors once joked they must have been very protective of their laundry. They were only partially right.

“I’m ready too,” she said to the camera. “Please, let me in.”

She heard nothing. The light on the camera just flickered and the door remained locked. At first, she thought her message hadn’t gotten through. Then, she remembered her mistake.

“I apologize. It’s been a long day,” Erin said. “Please, let me in…Master.”

The way she said that last word, lacing it with a mix of reverence and seduction, did the trick. The door unlocked. The light on the camera changed from red to green. The special activity she’d planned with her husband had begun.

“Thank you for your mercy, Master,” she said graciously. “I intend to make it up to you.”

Confident in her intentions, she opened the heavy door and descended the steps leading into the basement. There, she encountered a setup that she’d seen many times before, but it still got every part of her body hot with excitement…some more so than others.

Her master had really gone the extra mile. Once again, he gave their little S&M dungeon his special touch. As always, the windows were blacked out, the lamps were shaded with red veils, and an array of black candles were set up on special stands all around what had once been a typical cellar. In the center of the room, however, the real spectacle awaited her.

Her master had been working on it for weeks. It was a special bondage rack, one that required parts not easily found in a typical hardware store and expertise not typical of a middle-aged man who worked at a private security firm. It looked like a fancy massage table that had been modified with shackles, straps, and a few other familiar accessories that Erin knew very well. In addition to the rock, there was also a small table containing some special instruments that should facilitate the night’s activities.

If her co-workers had seen it, especially Brandy and Marla, they would’ve been aghast. If someone even joked about them using it, they would’ve been outraged. From their perspective, the idea of any woman subjecting herself to such denigration had to be damaged or worse. Erin could only laugh at how wrong they would’ve been.

“Master…once again, you’ve outdone yourself,” Erin said in amazement.

Not the least bit repulsed, she approached the heart of the dungeon. With each step she took, she felt herself drawn into a unique world with a very specific power structure. In that structure, she had no authority, whatsoever.

She wasn’t a colleague, a partner, or even a participant. She was a slave, plain and simple. She lived to serve a master and by serving him well, the benefits were many.

“My dear, subservient whore,” came a powerful voice over a loudspeaker. “Welcome back to our special domain.”

Every word echoed with such power and not just because it came through a speaker system that had been built into the walls. Still only a few steps from the bondage rack, Erin looked around until she located the other camera mounted on the wall. Instantly, she felt her master’s powerful presence.

“Greetings, Master,” Erin said with a respectful bow. “How may I serve you this evening?”

“Spoken like a good slave,” the voice responded. “You can start by stripping out of those itchy clothes.”

The young woman nodded obediently and complied with her master’s wishes. As she unbuttoned her blouse and removed her skirt, she made sure she stood in full view of the camera. She hadn’t forgotten how much her master loved watching her undress. It always pleased him, watching her reveal her womanly body to him. She already could feel his lustful eyes on her, especially as she removed her bra and panties.

After completing her impromptu striptease, she remained standing in the middle of the room, knowing multiple cameras were now focused on her naked body. She made no effort to cover her breasts, butt, or pussy. Erin wanted her master to admire her. She made it clear with the way she stood that she was a loyal, obedient slave. She was there to serve her master.

“Beautiful,” her master’s voice said through the speakers, “a loyal slave, naked and eager to serve their master’s desires. You are eager, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master…very much so,” Erin replied.

“You say that, but I am unconvinced.”

The door on the other side of the cellar opened. It led to an area that served as a laundry room and a hub for the various electronics that she and her master had set up. It was always dark, but even within the tinted lighting, she could make out the imposing figure that emerged.

“Master,” she said with a mix of reverence and lust.

He reacted favorably to her words and tone. Wearing only a pair of denim pants, heavy black boots, and a matching leather vest that revealed part of his upper body, he carried himself with the poise of a titan. Erin couldn’t help but cower before him as he approached her naked form.

On the surface, Robert Grant might not have seemed that imposing. He’d met her friends, co-workers, and neighbors. From their perspective, he was just an ordinary middle-aged man who few recognized on a crowded street. He wasn’t that tall or heavily muscled. However, he was also a former soldier who had a strong appreciation for discipline. Unlike her, though, he preferred imposing it, rather than respecting it.

“My sweet little sex slave,” he said to her. “You weren’t lying. You are horny.”

He spoke as though his will made it a reality. As if to exact that will, he reached between her legs and cupped the outer folds of her womanhood. He didn’t ask permission and she didn’t resist. He was her master. She was his slave. There was no need.

“It must have been a stressful day,” her master said. “You’re so wet. It seems you need your master’s loving touch.”

“Yes, I need it. I need it so bad!” Erin said, barely hiding her desperation.

“Lucky for you, I’m fair and loving master. I take care of my slaves. I even reward them.”

Every word echoed with strength. Within that same strength was a distinct brand of love and care that only a master could offer. That was what Erin craved. It was what brought her such immense satisfaction.

She continued standing obedient before her husband/master, gazing at him with desperate eyes as he fondled her pussy while caressing her face, admiring both her naked body and her willful obedience. She knew how much that turned him on. She could already see a large bulge protruding in his pants.

Whether it was from her stripping naked or her subservience to his powerful touch, her master was aroused. That, on top of her own escalating arousal, filled their little dungeon with the thick scene of sex.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” her master said while cupping her chin. “I’m going to strap you to my new bondage rack. I’m going to render you completely bound. Then, I’m going to please myself with your submissive form. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master…very clear,” Erin said without hesitation.

“Resist, and it will get uncomfortable. Submit, and you too will be pleased. By pleasing your master, you will in turn please yourself. Trust in me…trust in your master’s authority and I will make sure of it.”

The dynamic was rigid, but simple. To be a good slave, she had to trust in her master. To be a good master, he had to honor her trust. It was the unspoken power of authority. It wasn’t just about one person imposing on another. Trust was what granted that power in the first place. By using it wisely, both master and slave could benefit.

“I trust you, Master,” Erin said while gazing intently into Robert’s eyes. “I submit to your authority. I freely offer you my heart and my body.”

“Very good, my beautiful slave,” he replied with an affectionate grin. “From this point forward, you will not speak unless I request it. My authority over you is total.”

As if to seal the deal, Robert leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips. Still grasping her chin and cupping her pussy, Erin could feel the literal and figurative power he had over her. To some, it was scary, giving someone that much latitude over their body and will. For her, it was nothing short of exhilarating.

Upon parting their lips, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and led her to the bondage rack. Erin followed him freely, not resisting in the slightest, even when he lightly slapped her butt to make her move faster. If anything, that got her even more excited. It showed just how eager her master was to exercise his power over her.

“Get on the table,” her master demanded. “Get on all fours and face the wall.”

Erin wordlessly complied. The leather of the rack was already hot on her naked skin. It had definitely been a massage table at one point, but the modifications her master had made ensured it wouldn’t be that relaxing.

Once in position, her master did the rest. First, he grabbed her arms and placed them in shackles that were attached to the side of the rack. He then did the same with her ankles, ensuring her legs were spread in the process. The hot air flowing between her legs spread the scent of arousal within the confined room. However, the extent of her submission still wasn’t done.

Her limbs now restrained, Robert activated a mechanism within the rack that raised a metal bar so that it was just under her abdomen. It was cold to her naked skin, but she understood its purpose. Between it and the restraints, her hips and butt remained elevated, the path to her sex clear and unobstructed. Any resistance at that point would’ve been futile, but Erin had no intention of resisting.

“There! Bound, naked, and secure, like a good little sex slave,” her master said as he admired her form. “I like what I’m seeing thus far.”

“Thank you, Master,” Erin said.

“Hey! Did I give you permission to talk?”

Erin gasped to herself. In her aroused state, she momentarily undermined her master’s control over her. That was a clear violation. All her life, she’d been taught to abhor such violations. Her submission to her master was no exception.

“You spoke out of line,” Robert said, treating it as serious as any crime. “For that, you must be punished. Affirm that you will accept your master’s punishment.”

“I…I accept,” Erin said meekly.

“Good, my slave. Now, brace yourself for your master’s authority!”

The excitement kept growing. She felt the heat between her legs intensify. She heard her master making some preparations at a nearby table, but couldn’t see what they entailed. Not knowing only added to the excitement.

She was already short of breath. She barely had a chance to catch it by the time her master walked around to the front of the bondage rack and stood in front of her. Looking up, he towered over her naked form with such power and grandeur. It was akin to looking up at a demigod. She could only gaze up at him with submissive awe.

“Even good slaves need reminders,” he told her. “Be sure to commit this to memory.”

He spoke like a true disciplinarian, but one who understood and cared for what it meant. That was part of what had drawn Erin to her husband and master in the first place. Her appreciation for such a rigid approach drew him to her, as well, and it showed in a big way.

As he loomed over her, he undid his belt and pulled down his pants, freeing a throbbing-hard erection that had probably been building since she entered the dungeon. Upon kicking off his pants, he stood at the head of the bondage rack and grasped both sides of her head. He then aligned the tip of his penis with her lips.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Erin obeyed her master once again. His grip on her head intensified. Finally, with a firm jerk of the hips, he shoved his manhood into her mouth and began humping her face.

Her punishment had officially begun.

“That’s it!” Robert said intently. “Take your master’s cock. Suck it! Lick it! Take it all!”

“Ungh!” was all Erin got out.

It was overwhelming at first. Robert was exceptionally endowed. His average stature hinted otherwise, but when he got fully aroused, his dick was big enough to test anyone’s jaw muscles. For her master, though, Erin endured the strain.

She willfully and eagerly sucked him off, gagging and slurping along his length as he aggressively humped her face. It was messy and rough, but that was appropriate. It was punishment, after all. She had spoken out of line. Her master was right to discipline her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been a capable master.

“Yes! My slave…accept your punishment! Respect your master!” Robert said, his presence radiating with domineering power.

He clung harder to her head, running his fingers through her hair as he face-fucked her without restraint. Erin, like a good slave, kept taking it. She never diverted her gaze from him, looking up as his member slithered rapidly between her lips. Already, her makeup was running and saliva dripped down her chin, an unambiguous effect of a submissive slave and a powerful master.

Punishment or not, the sight of her master’s pleased expression gave Erin a unique fulfillment. Only someone enamored by authority like her could understand such a feeling. Her punishment was her master’s joy. His fulfillment, in turn, became hers. It was a perfect embodiment of a master and slave embracing their roles.

From those roles, her own arousal escalated. Being restrained, dominated, and punished turned the mentality of a slave into a tangible feeling. Already, she craved more of it. However, she could only get that by serving her master and accepting her punishment.

Finally, just as her jaw began to falter from the strain, her master ceased his movements and withdrew.

“There! Your punishment is complete,” Robert told her. “You did well, slave. Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Master,” she said obediently.

“Now that you appreciate my authority once more, you’re able to embrace its many benefits. Are you ready to embrace it?”

“Yes, Master. I’m ready!”

He knelt down and caressed her face. Unlike before, he was gentle and caring, looking upon her with affection rather than domination. It was another key trait of a strong master. When a slave accepted their punishment, they proved worthy of mercy. Robert, more than most masters, was capable of extremely satisfying mercy.

“I believe you,” he told her, “and because I’m a good master, I intend to reward your loving submission.”

“Thank you, Master. Thank you!”

Already breathing hard, her anticipation rising with each passing second, she watched as her loving master made good on his promise. Still bound and submissive, not resisting in the slightest, he could’ve done anything he wanted to her. However, she trusted him to do only what was necessary to ensure that both master and slave were satisfied.

As part of that effort, he retrieved another item from the table. It was an orange ball-gag, one custom-fitted for her mouth. Without saying a word, he put it in her mouth and secured it with ease, effectively silencing her and deepening her submission.

Then, he walked around to the other end of the bondage rack. At that point, she couldn’t see what he was doing. She had to trust him even more, believing her master knew best how to please her.

“A good slave is also a robust slave,” he said to her. “You’re tougher than most. You’ve proven that time and again. That’s why, as your master, I must be skilled in applying my power.”

There was a brief silence. Erin heard him retrieving something else from the table. She heard a bottle pop open, followed by the feeling of thick, lubricating gel pouring down her buttocks and inner thighs. Being so aroused, it wasn’t entirely necessary.

Then, she felt something hard and phallic-shaped press against her asshole.

“A little something I procured the other day,” Robert said seductively, “something I knew my slave would enjoy.”

With no further warning, he inserted the object into her. Erin’s gasped at the sharp feeling, her reaction muffled by the ball gag. She quickly identified it as a metal dildo, one specifically designed for anal sex. Her master had used one on her before, but only rare occasions.

That was because she loved anal sex and had never been shy about it. Her master often used that as an added reward for special occasions. Whatever the occasion might have been, she figured she’d been an exceptional slave because she felt the dildo vibrate.

“Mmmff!” Erin moaned, practically squealing through her gag.

“You feel that, don’t you?” her master said in his deep, authoritative tone. “I know you love it. A good master knows what his slave loves and believe me. I know.”

His certainty reflected his authority. The way he wielded it reminded Erin why she fell in love with Robert Grant and why she loved being his slave.

He knew how to dominate her in a way that made her want to be dominated. Already, she could feel a steady stream of sensations coursing through her body, the vibrating dildo stimulating her depths. She trembled under the feeling, already drooling through her ball gag as she descended further into a world of total submission.

Bound, gagged, and eager for more, Erin braced herself for what came next.

“I also know you love this,” he said, leaning over and whispering into her ear.

With the dildo still stimulating her anally, she felt her master position himself at the other end of the bondage race. From there, he grabbed hold of her waist with that strong, domineering grip of his and guided the tip of his rigid penis to her still-moist slit. He didn’t tease or tantalize her as a less certain lover would have. As soon as their bodies were aligned, he thrust his hips forward hard and confidently, driving his manly flesh into her womanly depths.

“Mhmm!” Erin gasped, her blissful delight apparent in her submissive squeals.

“Ohhh yeah!” her master grunted. “So hot and tight…you want this. You need this…my beautiful slave.”

His grip on her waist tighten as he began moving his hips, pumping his cock inside her throbbing depths with great vigor. He was not gentle or careful. He exerted the full force of his domination over her, rocking her body and the entire submission rack. The resulting sensations compounded the feeling evoked by the vibrating dildo, creating a steady onslaught of ecstasy that cascaded through her body.

It was incredible.

It was beautiful.

It was a perfect act of utter domination and complete submission.

From that feeling, a special passion emerged. Robert was her loving master and she was his willing slave. By trusting him with her heard and her body, he delivered to her a merciful ecstasy. By submitting to him, she gave him the trust and respect that made his authority strong. It made the act of exercising power as exhilarating as the pleasure it produced, creating the ultimate blend of intimacy and desire.

Together, Erin descended with him into a daze of bliss. Bound and gagged, she took the brunt of his lust, her body rocking every time his manly member plunged into her womanly depths. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled their dungeon, supplementing his dominating grunts and her muffled moans. The bondage rack trembled under the weight of their movements, but the restraints held up. That ensured she remained completely submissive when she achieved orgasm, just like she liked it.

“Mmm!” she exclaimed through the gag.

“Yes, my slave! Come! Come for your master!” Robert proclaimed.

He gave her buttocks a hard spank, as if to trigger her release on command. It worked almost too well. The resulting rush of pleasure was so intense she nearly passed out.

It was like a volcano erupting within her core, the onslaught of sensations coming together in a single burst. The feeling rippled through her from head to toe. It was a feeling she hadn’t actively pursued. She achieved it through submission to her master and his loving domination of her. It didn’t just leave her deeply satisfied. It further strengthened his authority over her.

“I’m going to keep fucking you, slave,” he told her. “You’re going to keep coming. Then, I’ll come…and your submission will be complete!”

That wasn’t a warning or a boast. That was a master simply telling his slave how things were going to be. Only a master of true authority could hope to speak with such certainty. Her husband, Robert Grant, was that kind of master.

He continued dominating her with his sex, even after the orgasmic sensations abated. He kept humping her and groping her bound flesh, squeezing her breasts and swatting her ass. Once again, he tested her ability to absorb his lust, as well as his love. As always, she passed with flying colors, achieving more orgasms in the process.

Erin wasn’t sure how many she’d had. She just made sure to soak in every last sensation as she embraced her submission, taking her master’s domination for as long as he needed. He always enjoyed drawing it out, as if to prove how well he’d mastered his authority. He had nothing to prove to her, his loyal slave, but that never stopped him from pushing it to the utmost.

By the time he finally neared his peak, her butt was sore and her limbs were strained by the shackles. None of that mattered, though. Just as her master pushed himself in his domination, she too pushed herself in her submission.

“I’m close! My loyal slave…I’m so close!” her master proclaimed.

In a final culmination, he imparted his last outburst of lust, rocking her body so hard that her restraints almost gave out. They held on just long enough for him to finally achieve his peak. When it hit, he let out a of domineering grunt worthy of a skilled and loving master.

His member throbbed.

His nails dug into her naked flesh.

His sweat mixed with hers, showing the extent of his exertion.

Their intimate act complete, her lover withdrew from her and removed the vibrating dildo. He also leaned over and removed the ball gag, finally allowing her to catch her breath and rest her jaw.

As their intimate fluids mixed within her, the finality of what she and Robert had done set in. She willingly submitted to him and he eagerly dominated her. From it, they achieved something beautiful…something that wasn’t possible without a trust and love built on a foundation of authority.

“I love you…my sexy, submissive slave,” Robert said to her.

“I love you too…my wonderful, loving master,” Erin replied.

“I’m going to unlock your restraints,” he said. “I think I’ve sufficiently asserted my authority for today.”

“That you have,” she said, “but strong authority always benefits from frequent reminders.”

“Don’t worry, Erin. I’ve got elaborate plans for plenty more reminders!”

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Daily Sexy Musings: The Sex Appeal Of Power

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Power is sexy. It’s not always the most obvious kind of sex appeal and for some powerful individuals, it’s downright counter-intuitive. It’s still an undeniable force in our collective libido. From King Solomon to modern despots, power has been linked with sex appeal for as long as people have been horny.

Power, be it physical or political, is often both an ends and a means. When you’re in the presence of someone powerful, they can do things for you and others that no ordinary human being can do. They can snap their fingers and make random people dance in their honor. They can procure resources that are difficult to get, even for those with ample money.

When you’re around that kind of power, it’s bound to affect you. Sometimes, it’s scary and for good reason. Powerful people are often the ones who commit egregious atrocities. At the same time, however, fear can be arousing. Your brain and your genitals don’t always know the difference and that can influence how you see someone’s sex appeal.

Powerful people don’t have to be beautiful. They don’t necessarily have to be brutal, either. However, gaining power and wielding it requires a level of charisma that’s bound to attract others on a primal level. Regardless of how you feel about the current people in power, there’s no denying that they have an appeal that goes beyond sexiness.

This Daily Sexy Musing acknowledges that appeal, as well as the unique aspects surrounding it. We may not always like it and it may not always bring out the best in people, but it’s influence is profound and, when power is wielded just right, it’s effects can be pretty intense.

At first, I’m afraid. I feel the dread washing over me from head to toe. With every step you take, I tremble harder. I know who you are and what you’re capable of. Your hands can do plenty, but it’s your words that can move people and mountains. In the face of such power, what hope do I have?

Through that fear, another feeling emerges.

Through that fear, I see you in another light.

Through that fear, my dread clashes with something deeper.

As I tremble, you gaze upon me with imposing eyes. Without saying a word, you let me know that we are not equals. You are the titan while I am the insect. My worth is trivial. Yours will transcend the ages. On a whim, you could end me, but you don’t. That alone compounds the feeling.

I’m in danger, but I’m also excited.

I’m in awe, but I’m also disgusted.

I’m so afraid, but I’m also aware.

I’m so repulsed, but I’m also intrigued.

The conflict rages within me. I don’t know what to do. I can only cower in your presence, either hoping for mercy or bracing for wrath. I have no control. You have the power. You make all the choices. My body and soul are literally in your hands.

Finally, you exercise your power. I remain still as a statue as you reach out and touch my face. As soon as your hand meets my skin, everything comes into place. Like magic, you shatter the dread and replace it with something else entirely. I continue to tremble, but for very different reasons.

I cannot escape it. My body and my heart betray me. I want you. My desires carry no weight, but yours has infinite worth. Your slightest touch radiates with the greatest intensity. Without words or actions, I’m drawn in. I offer myself to you.

Your power makes you so strong.

My weakness makes me so vulnerable.

Together, we achieve an intimate balance.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Toned Muscles

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We resist working out, but we’re hopelessly attracted to fit, sexy bodies. It’s ironic, but understandable. A fit, toned body takes work and not everyone is willing to put in that work. I’ve admitted before that I did not put in that work for a good chunk of my life. I’ve since come to appreciate the added sex appeal of fit, toned muscles on my body and others.

I’m no male model, but I’m not afraid to flex a little in front of a mirror. It’s not just that toned muscles look good. They reflect the work, sacrifices, and dedication that people put into forging them. Building muscle and losing weight is hard. There’s a reason why it’s a multi-billion dollar industry. However, it’s work that’s worth doing.

The fruits of that labor often show in intimate moments. Whether it’s a tender embrace or full-blown foreplay, toned muscles definitely add something to our collective sex appeal. In our own bodies and that of our lovers, toned muscles are a sign that we’re willing to put in the work so that they want to see us naked. That kind of commitment perfectly complements the best kinds of love.

I know it’s not possible for everyone to get fit beyond a certain point. The human body is a beautiful, but flawed system and many struggle to manage theirs for reasons that aren’t entirely their fault. It’s for that very reason, though, that toned muscles carry an extra level of sex appeal and this Daily Sexy Musing is just one way of highlighting that. Enjoy!

It takes sweat.

It takes strain.

It takes sacrifice.

In the end, it’s all worth it when I shed my clothes and show you the fruits of my labor. Your reaction is proof that I did something right and for the best possible reasons. From the soft purr in your voice to the glean in your eyes, I can tell you like what you see. I also sense you seek to do more than just watch.

I move in closer.

I welcome your touch.

I guide your hand around my hard, toned muscles.

I let your reaction speak for itself.

Your smile widens and so does mine. Briefly, I forget about the hours of lifting, sprinting, and grunting through constant fatigue. The meals I had to skip and the food I had to eat become a distant memory. Your touch and the desire in your gaze reminds me of the goals I’d laid out. Some were for me, but others were for us.

To be wanted is challenging enough, but to be desired on such a strong, intimate level takes hard work and grit. I had to push myself to be someone you wanted to want. I put in the work to give you something to touch, taste, and crave on a primal level. To you, my beauty is my gift to you and I want you to cherish it.

With every graze of your fingers, I feel your affection.

With every caress of your hand, I sense your arousal.

With every kiss of your lips, I exercise a new set of muscles.

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Sexy Sunday Thoughts: “Avengers Endgame” Edition

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I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that, with respect to fans of superhero movies, this weekend is the biggest weekend in the history of the genre. It’s impossible to overstate just how big a deal “Avengers Endgame” is, both for fans of superheroes and for the whole of cinematic history. It’s not an exaggeration to say that weekend will go down as historic for so many reasons.

Even though the movie is out and many have already seen it, I won’t go into too much detail. I’ve already written my review and many so have many others. The impact of this movie has just started to sink in and the reactions to it will define a generation in ways we haven’t seen since the first “Star Wars” movie.

As a lifelong fan of superheroes and comic books, it’s hard to put into words what “Avengers Endgame” means to me. I still remember the dark days of Joel Shumacher’s “Batman and Robin” and the horrors of Barakapool in “Wolverine Origins.” Superhero movies have come a long way. It wasn’t that long ago that a movie on the scale of “Avengers” seemed impossible.

Now, here we are, celebrating the impact of “Avengers Endgame.” What started over 10 years ago with “Iron Man” has finally come to a close. For those who have seen the movie, I doubt I could put into words the impact that this cinematic journey has had on us all. As someone who has been inspired by these characters for years, these truly are remarkable times.

While I can never articulate the feeling I had after seeing “Avengers Endgame,” I can at least celebrate it along with others who appreciate it. This edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts is my contribution to that effort. I’m sure others will be celebrating and remember this weekend for years to come.


“It says something about the breadth of human sexuality when clowns can be both a phobia and a fetish.”


“On the basis of results, oral sex has been the most effective form of contraception in human history.”


“Afterglow is the only kind of exhaustion that lazy people appreciate.”


“If humping counts as exercise, then having sex counts as getting in shape.”


“Giving a man a hand-job when his horny is the sexual equivalent of giving him a gift card for Christmas.”


“Couples that go to strip clubs on dates are like gourmet chefs who go to fast food for dinner.”


“The volatility of a relationship is directly proportional to the hotness of the makeup sex.”


Regardless of how you feel about superhero movies or the superhero genre, there’s no getting around what “Avengers Endgame” has achieved. I’m sure fans like myself will be talking about it and contemplating it for years to come. Now, one era of cinematic glory has ended. Another is set to begin. As a fan who has thoroughly enjoyed the journey, I’m looking forward to what the future has in store.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Geeky Sex Appeal

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I freely admit it. I’m a comic book geek/superhero nerd/comic fanboy/whatever colorful term you want to give it. I love comic books, sci-fi, cartoons, and everything else that Bill Maher finds insufferable. I don’t try to hide it. I’ve written about it many, many times on this site and I plan to write much more in the future.

I say this knowing that geeks like me aren’t known for their sex appeal. If anything, geeks are often defined by a lack of sex appeal. It’s a stereotype that got overplayed in 1980s teen comedies, but continues to linger in popular perceptions of nerd culture. Even though there are objectively sexy people who identify as geeks, many of these stereotypes persist.

Naturally, I resent these attitudes. I believe geeks can have a sexy side and not just with respect to sexy cos-play. That sexy side has real appeal that brings people together. I know this because I met my college girlfriend through a shared love of comics. She definitely had a sexy side too and being a geek actually helped.

The culture has shifted significantly in recent years. Geeks aren’t just mainstream. They’re a huge market. The release of “Avengers Endgame” and the box office records it’s breaking is proof of that. You don’t become that mainstream without some level of sex appeal. It may not be obvious, but it’s definitely there.

As geeks like me bask in the awesome of movies like “Avengers Endgame,” I think the time is right to celebrate that sex appeal. For all the geeks, nerds, fanboys, and fangirls out there whose sex appeal is so under-appreciated, this Daily Sexy Musing is for you.

Truth, justice, and the American Way.

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far way.

Higher, further, faster.

These are the words ingrained in our memories, connected to a passion that transcends their core meaning. To some, they’re just concepts and phrases. For us, they evoke images of capes, costumes, heroes, and heroines. Our adult minds connect with our childlike spirit. Together, they form an identity and a world that we embrace.

Through comic books, movies, TV shows, and games, we explore that world on our own accord. As kids, it enchanted us. As adults, it inspires us. In this world, we dare to dream of greater things and higher ideals. The impossible is possible and the improbable is inevitable. Through will and imagination, the shackles of reality crack.

A nerd with a passion.

A geek with a hobby.

A fan with a purpose.

A soul with a spark.

Within us is a capacity for something great. On our own, we gladly lose ourselves in our dreams. With those who share our dreams, the greatness compounds, as does the passion. Whereas one dedicated soul can achieve plenty. Two can create something beyond imagination.

Movies become an event.

Books become an entire universe.

Games become an ever-expanding adventure.

Fanciful thoughts become intimate passions. My energy supplements yours and your energy only compounds mine. Discussions become heated and insight becomes connection. What begins as an exploration becomes a shared journey. I let you into your world and you let me into mine.

I am your geek.

You are my nerd.

We share a great passion.

We are our greatest heroes.

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“Love and Endgames” A Sexy Short Story (Inspired By Superhero Movies)

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As I write these words, I am anxiously awaiting the premier of “Avengers Endgame.” I have my ticket and detailed plan for how I’m going to take in this historic movie that promises to break so many box office records. Just as I did withAvengers Infinity War,” I wrote a sexy short story to celebrate this momentous cinematic achievement. Enjoy!

It seemed like just yesterday, but it had been nearly 11 years since that fateful day. Iron Man, a generic superhero movie starring a troubled actor in Robert Downey Jr., debuted and gave rise to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Few could’ve imagined that one movie would’ve spawned the biggest movie franchise in cinematic history. Even fewer could’ve imagined it would ultimately lead to a movie like Avengers Endgame. Allen Marco was among those select few, but the rise and dominance of the MCU had a more personal impact for him.

On the day Iron Man premiered, Allen was reeling from a potent combination college burnout and a broken heart. Early that morning, he learned that his ex-girlfriend, who he’d been dating since high school, had been cheating on him. He thought they’d been going through a rough patch. Apparently, she’d been trying to break up with him for months.

He was so devastated that he planned to spend the day sulking rather than seeing Iron Man with his older brother, who was in town to help an old roommate move. Whether by fate or luck, his brother sprained his ankle and couldn’t go. Rather than throw away his ticket, he convinced Allen to take his roommate’s sister, Ashley.

Initially, Allen refused. Then, his brother insisted that he take her out as a favor, claiming Ashley had been a recluse since getting booted from the university’s championship swim team. She’d become a constant nuisance for her brother and all his friends, by default. Allen’s brother never could’ve imagined that coaxing him into a date with his roommate’s sister would spawn a love that had blossomed as well as the MCU.

“Here we are,” Allen said as he pulled into the parking lot of the same movie theater where that love began, “eleven years later, we’re back to where it all began.”

“I know,” Ashley said distantly. “Amazing, isn’t it? Three Iron Man movies, three Avengers movies, three Thor movies, three Captain America movies…”

“Don’t forget Black Panther, Ant-Man, and Guardians of the Galaxy,” he pointed out.

“I haven’t. I doubt I ever will. How could I when you proposed to me after the first Avengers movie? Or when I told you I was pregnant after seeing Age of Ultron?”

“It feels like a movie, in and of itself…albeit a cheesy one,” Allen said with a laugh.

“I’d still see it,” Ashley said, laughing as well and casting him a loving smile.

As he parked their car in main garage, Allen continued to marvel – a fitting term, given the context of their relationship – at how far they’d come. It was early in the morning, just after sunrise. The theater wasn’t even open, nor was the strip mall around it. There were practically no cars in the garage, but that was sure to change as Marvel fans gathered for the premier. It wouldn’t be the first time, either.

Allen still remembered pulling into the same garage 11 years ago, driving that beat-up old Buick he should’ve gotten rid of years ago. He was in such a rotten mood that day. It didn’t help that it was pouring rain and he had college finals to worry about. Seeing any movie, let alone Iron Man, felt like a chore.

Then, he saw Ashley. That moment had an impact almost as great as that first post-credits scene where Nick Fury teased the Avengers. It sparked an intrigue that only grew and expanded over time.

“This is bigger than any other Marvel movie,” Allen said. “I know I said the same thing about Infinity War, but this is different and not just with respect to who I fought to get these tickets.”

“You don’t need to tell me, Allen,” said Ashley. “I had to cash in several favors at the office and make several promises to my boss in order to get this day off.”

“It’s still worth repeating. They’re saying that Avengers Endgame is the end of an era. Everything that’s been building since that first movie 11 years ago…that movie that brought us together…culminates with this.”

“You hoping it inspires a similar culmination with us?” she teased.

“That’s just it. It doesn’t have to. Our love culminated years ago on our wedding day. This movie means something else.”

Upon turning off the engine, Allen undid his seatbelt and set the keys aside. He then reached over and grasped the hands of the woman who’d become the love of his life after 11 eventful years. Looking at her and recalling how far they’d come, it seemed like a journey worthy of any superhero.

Meeting Ashley was like Robert Downy Jr. getting the part of Tony Stark. It just fit so perfectly. He’d been a fan of superheroes since he was a kid and Ashley had grown curious about them, thanks to her comic book loving brother. Seeing that first Iron Man movie together wasn’t just thrilling from a pure movie-going standpoint. Experiencing it together acted as a catalyst for a deeper connection, one that ultimately blossomed into something every bit as vast as any cinematic universe.

“Ashley, before I met you, I honestly didn’t know what it meant to love someone,” Allen said, giving her hand a warm squeeze to convey the depths of his affection. “In some ways, I was like Tony Stark or Thor in the first movie…thinking the world worked a certain way, but not seeing the flaws that were right in front of me.”

“I’d say you were more like Starlord, at least in terms of dance skills,” Ashley said with a slight tease, “but I haven’t forgotten. It’s not like I was in a good 11 years ago, either. I might as well have been Erik Killmonger in Black Panther.”

“And like those characters, we needed something to jar us out of our stupor,” he went on. “We needed something to help us realize that we’d been going about things all wrong. It might not have involved an infinity stone or a magic hammer, but it was every bit as powerful.”

“Did you really just compare us to Mjolnir?”

“Why not? It was enchanted to respond only to the worthy. That’s not too different from love. Many try hard to seek someone’s love, but sometimes it’s just not there and trying to force it only results in frustration.”

“Kind of like how I reacted to getting booted from the swim team,” Ashley added.

“They were harsh lessons…the kind every hero learns in these movies. We just had to learn ours together.”

Allen reached over and caressed her face, lovingly trailing his fingers down her cheek, just like he’d done at their Avengers-themed wedding six years ago. Ashley smiled and blushed almost as much as she’d done on that fateful day, unable to contain the joy that he often evoked in her. It didn’t just make him worthy in a Thor sort of way. It affirmed what he’d come to know about their relationship and love, in general.

“Before you, I thought love was something that just happened naturally.” Allen said distantly. “You find someone you like, you follow a few simple rules, and you just wait for it to blossom. It wasn’t magical or extraordinary. It was just part of the process.”

“Not exactly romantic, but not entirely flawed, either,” Ashley said.

“Every superhero usually sees their world in a similar way, assuming they know how it works and making every excuse when it doesn’t. Then, something comes along that hits you like an invading alien army, a treacherous sibling, or killer robot. You can’t make excuses. You have to see what you once refused to see…accept what you didn’t want to accept.”

“And what did you see in me?”

Her tone became more serious as well. The way she looked at him was so different compared to that fateful day when they saw Iron Man. It wasn’t immediately clear what they’d found together, but the signs were there.

In his wife’s eyes, he saw the memories of that day play out in perfect detail. They approached one another at the theater, uncertain and confused. They weren’t sure what to make of one another. It was hardly love at first sight. Then, they watched the movie and it got them talking.

One moment, they were walking out of the theater, talking about how foolish Tony Stark was to reveal his identity at the end. The next, they were sitting at a fast food restaurant across the street, talking about whether Iron Man being a superhero made him a champion or an enemy of defense contractors. Before they knew it, they’d spent all night together, engrossed in conversation.

From that conversation, a spark emerged. Allen could still see traces of that spark in her eyes, even after 11 years, a wedding, full-time careers, and a beautiful baby boy they’d named Stanley. What happened that night sent them on a hero’s journey of their own. To some extent, it was beginning all over again with Avengers Endgame.

“I saw in you how wrong I’d been…how stupid I’d been, even,” Allen said.

“That’s not fair. I didn’t even believe love existed before I met you. How stupid is that?” Ashley argued.

“Not believing is better than being wrong,” he told her, “and believe me, I’d been very wrong. With every girl I’d been with, I kept pushing to hold onto this feeling I thought was real love. Hell, I thought if I wasn’t pushing, then it wasn’t real.”

“That’s not stupid, Allen…misguided, but not stupid.”

“Call it whatever you want. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have been surprised when it all went wrong. I was like Hulk trying to lift Thor’s hammer, frustrating myself and everyone around me by trying to force something that just wasn’t there.”

“God, my heart still skips a beat when I think of that scene,” Ashley snicker.

“With you, it finally became clear. Being in love is like being worthy. It’s only there when you realize how strong it is…how deep it runs.”

“Keep going and I’m going to break down like I did at the end of Guardians of the Galaxy 2.”

“After 11 years, it’s worth remembering and even celebrating. Just like nobody thought we’d get a movie like Avengers Endgame, we never thought we’d find a love as deep as ours.”

Allen leaned in closer, now cupping her face with both hands. The past 11 years had been a profound journey, not unlike that of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. From heartbreak and despair to love and fulfillment, he and Ashley had come a long way. Avengers Endgame marked both the completion of one journey and the start of another.

“Coming back to this theater, complete with non-refundable tickets, I marvel at everything we’ve achieved together,” he told her.

“Marveling at our love,” she said to him, “that’s just so fitting.”

“We stopped assuming we knew what love was supposed to be. We followed our own rules, forging love on our terms. And damn it, it worked. It couldn’t have worked better if Steve Rogers himself had blessed it.”

“Even my brother was surprised by how hard I feel for you.”

“That’s because shared in that journey. We dared to argue and disagree, but we always assembled when it counted. It was never just about me or you. It was always about us…together.”

“Together,” she repeated.

It sounded like a speech that Captain America would give before the final battle against Thanos. To anyone else, it would’ve been a needlessly melodramatic comment from someone who’d seen the first Avengers movie six times in theaters. To Ashley, the woman he’d met the day the Marvel Cinematic Universe began, it was the most loving sentiment any man could express.

She affirmed her appreciation of that sentiment in the form of a passionate kiss. Snaking her arms around his neck, he pulled him in close and shared with him the same gesture that had capped off that fateful first date. That kiss had been on a whim, but it ended up inspiring something far greater. Captain America would be proud.

As she kissed him and he kissed back, Ashley undid her seatbelt and deepened the embrace. Unlike his old Buick, their SUV had much more room and much greater comfort. It allowed Ashley to slip out of the passenger’s seat and join him on the driver’s side, straddling his waist and grinding her pelvis against his, inspiring another reaction that was far more basic.

Allen did not avoid it. He embraced it with her, slipping his arms around her waist and feeling up her favorite Captain Marvel shirt. In doing so, he found out that she wasn’t wearing a bra, which effectively communicated her intentions.

“Ashley,” Allen gasped, abruptly breaking the kiss.

“Yes, my marvelous husband?” Ashley replied in a deep, seductive tone.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re attempting the same sexy stunt we pulled after seeing the first Thor movie,” he pointed out.

“It’s not my fault seeing Chris Hemsworth shirtless made me so horny,” she teased. “Plus, you did park the car in this garage…early in the morning…with nobody else in sight.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on something shady, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Allen, you parked in the exact same spot you did on our first date. You think I missed the subtext?”

Allen smiled and blushed, as he often did when Ashley surmised his intentions. She knew him so well. There was rarely any ambiguity, especially when it came to their sex life. Just like their first date, the spark came from a Marvel movie.

Their first time together had come the night the Incredible Hulk premiered, just a few months after Iron Man. That only lit the fuse of their passion for one another. Over the years, they’d explored it in many other ways, some of which included role playing and Black Widow themed lingerie. He was also fairly certain that their son had been conceived the night they saw Guardians of the Galaxy.

By parking in the same parking spot he had nearly 11 years ago on their first date, Allen expected to evoke plenty of emotions. He didn’t assume it would turn her on to the point where she’d want to have sex in the car – something they’d done more than once, including on the night the first Thor movie premiered – but a part of him had hoped it would.

“Well, we’ve got plenty of time to kill before we start camping out,” Allen said, as though it were the most logical thing in the world.

“And you did clean out the back yesterday,” she added, “including that mess Stanley made last week.”

“And I made sure it stayed clean when we dropped him off with your parents,” he said, “so if you want to start fantasizing about a shirtless Chris Hemsworth again…”

He let his words trail off, allowing Ashley to fill in the blanks, as only she could. He could tell by that sultry grin that she was already picturing Chris Hemsworth’s muscular body. That was okay with him because she knew he pictured Scarlet Johansson in a skin-tight catsuit during those same moments. Such lurid thoughts, inspired by 11 years of movies, had the desired effect.

Their excitement for Avengers Endgame had triggered an excitement for one another.

Their passions had been ignited.

They had time, energy, and 11 years of anticipation to build on.

“The back seat…now!” Ashley said in a voice as assertive as Thanos.

Like a couple of horny teenagers, he and his marvelous wife eagerly crawled into the back of the SUV. Before she even reached the seat, Ashley undid her pants and pulled them down, revealing that she was wearing that sexy Black Widow themed thong he’d gotten for their anniversary. He didn’t think he could get more turned on by the prospect of sex with his wife in a car on the day an Avengers movie premiered. Once again, Ashly found a way to raise the bar.

By the time they reached the back seat of the SUV, her pants were at her ankles and Allen was removing his Avengers-themed shirt. While he didn’t have the same build as Chris Hemsworth or Chris Evans, he liked to think he kept up as anyone without superpowers could. Ashley certainly appreciated his efforts, helping him remove his shirt before pulling him into her loving grasp.

She wasn’t subtle about her intentions, either. She threw her legs around his waist and latched onto his shoulders, pulling him onto the seat with her where she kissed him passionately, using plenty of tongue and making those seductive noises that got his blood flowing in all the right directions.

Even with such escalating arousal, it was tricky to maneuver within the confines of the back seat. However, an SUV was more spacious than his old Buick. Having not forgotten how he and Ashley managed to make love in that old car on the night of the Thor movie, he followed a similar approach to that fateful night.

“Feeling worthy, yet?” Allen whispered into her ear, doing his best Thor impression.

“Yes…very worthy,” Ashley replied, doing her best Jane Foster impression.

Those were the exact same words they’d said on that night. Also like that night, he channeled his inner superhero, laying her down on the seat so that her head rested right up against the passenger window. Ashley seemed to appreciate that approach, kissing him harder and pawing his chest and back intently. He matched her growing passion, reaching up her Captain Marvel shirt and fondling her breasts.

A heated make-out session continued, not unlike the many they’d shared when they started dating. Whether it was excitement over Avengers Endgame or just general horniness, he and Ashley felt 10 years younger. They were all over each other, kissing and fondling one another, building up both arousal and passion. Soon, the whole SUV felt 10 degrees hotter, making their remaining clothes feel unbearable.

“Mmm…take it off!” she moaned through muffled kissing. “Please, Allen…I’m hotter than Hulk’s temper.”

“Be calm, my love,” he assured her. “I’ll get you out of those clothes. And unlike Hulk, nothing will get ripped.”

True to his word, Allen got his beautiful wife out of those itchy clothes, pulling her shirt up off over her head and removing her panties. She had already broken out into a light sweat after all the foreplay, making her naked body glow in the early morning sun. She was such a beautiful sight, more so now than she was 11 years ago.

He wanted her so much. He wanted her like Thanos wanted the Infinity Stones. It didn’t just show in his admiration of her body. It also showed in the large bulge that had formed in his pants. Ashley, never one to fall too far behind in intimate moments, noticed as well.

“Your turn, my hulking stud!” she teased.

With reflexes that would’ve made Quicksilver envious, Ashely reached up and undid his pants with ease. Allen couldn’t slip out of them and his Iron Man boxer shorts fast enough. Upon kicking them off, he slipped back into his marvelous wife’s embrace, their naked bodies pressing together on the narrow seat.

More kissing and foreplay followed. Sweaty skin touched sweaty skin, her breasts pressing up against his chest in the increasingly-steamy confines of the car. Allen could feel how much she wanted him, her body aching for his as much as he longed for hers. In most intimate moments, they preferred to drag out the naked fondling, but the one unfolding before them demanded more urgency.

“You ready to assemble, my love?” Allen teased.

“Yes, my avenging lover!” Ashley gasped intently. “Please…assemble!”

With a confident grin and a bravado second only to Tony Stark, Allen got grasped his wife’s thighs, hitched her legs over his shoulder, and aligned his hulking manhood with her wet entrance. Then, using whatever leverage he could in the confines of the back seat, he thrust his body forward and entered her. In that instant, their flesh assembled.

“Oohhh Allen!” Ashely moaned. “My hero!”

“Mmm…speak for yourself,” he said with a grunt.

For a moment, he savored their intimate union, soaking in that hot, moist feeling around his member. The desire now burning with the intensity of a Hulk-led rampage, Allen followed those desires further, moving his body and establishing an intimate rhythm. Ashley eagerly supplemented his efforts, grabbing onto his shoulders and arching her lower body in accord with every motion.

Through their shared goal of expressing the love, their sex became an act of teamwork. The Avengers would be proud. Together, he and Ashley rocked the SUV, the rhythm of their passion building more sweat and heat. The windows were already fogging up. The air grew sticky and muggy with the scent of sex. It was similar to the ambience they’d created on their first time together. After 11 years and 21 MCU movies, it was every bit as satisfying.

Just like that fateful night years ago in the back seat of his dirty car, he and Ashley made the most of the intimate setting. They drew it out like a battle scene in an Avenger movie, going at it from every angle they could. Channeling his inner Nick Fury, he made use of all the intel he had on his wife’s proclivities.

She liked it when he nibbled around her neck.

She liked it when he grunted like the Hulk in her ear.

She loved it when he squeezed her butt and held her waist up so that he could thrust into her at just the right angle.

“Ooh yes!” she exclaimed. “By Thor’s hammer, just like that! Smash that pussy…just like that!”

Allen gladly reciprocated. She knew his kinks just as well, namely how she hooked her legs around his waist, just as Black Widow did to Justin Hammer’s henchmen in Iron Man 2. The extra leverage even allowed her to hold her up in his arms and bounce him along his cock, rocking the car even harder. It also allowed them to really draw out their sex, as if to show how good they’d become at making love to one another. It definitely showed in terms of passion, stamina, and pleasure.

It got so intense and energetic, more so than most lovers could hope for after 11 years together. It was a testament to the love they’d assembled, growing and blossoming like the MCU had over the years. Avengers Endgame was supposed to be the final chapter in that saga. For their love, it was just another milestone.

“Allen…my marvelous husband…I’m close,” she panted in the midst of their heated movements.

“Me too, Ashley,” he grunted. “I’m so…so close.”

“Let’s…do it together. Let’s…truly…assemble!”

Her choice of words couldn’t have been more perfect. It gave Allen even greater motivation to carry his lover to that special threshold and beyond. With their naked bodies in an upright position, him bouncing her pelvis up and down to work her womanhood along his manly length, he pulled out all the stops. He kissed, caressed, and stimulated her until that euphoric feeling washed over them.

Finally, in an instant as powerful as Thanos’ famous snap in Avengers Infinity War, Ashely climaxed in his arms. As soon as he felt that intense throbbing in her lower body, along with the extra tightness that came with it, he crossed that special threshold as well and joined her in the ecstasy.

“Oohhh assemble!” they both exclaim.

It was an odd, but fitting proclamation. Their love began thanks to the Avengers movies. Now, on the eve of the biggest to date, it culminated once more.

Their shared release was uniquely satisfying. Allen felt his love tremble in her arms, throwing her head back and raking her nails down his back as the sensations coursed through her. He admired the sight as he took in the hot flood of sensations that erupted within his core, spreading from head to toe like a ball of blissful fire. The heat of their ecstasy, as well as the heat they’d made together, had caused much of the windows to fog up. Even though the car had stopped bouncing, the scent of their lovemaking lingered heavily in the vehicle.

“I love you, Ashley,” said Allen.

“I love you too, Allen,” Ashley replied. “After 11 years, 21 movies, and a fondness for superhero movies that everyone in my family finds weird…our love has come so far.”

“Like Iron Man…like Thor…like Captain America,” he pointed out.

“Except their journeys are ending. Ours is still going…and growing.”

“God, I love how you tie our sex life into superhero movies.”

“I wasn’t just referring to our sex life, but it still works!”

They shared a joyous laugh. Allen then kissed his wife again, deepening their embrace, their naked flesh remaining wondrously entwined. Just 11 years ago, it was hard to imagine being so in love with someone. It was just as hard to imagine that an entire cinematic universe based on superheroes could grow to such heights. On both counts, he and Ashley saw that it was both possible and achievable.

Now, on the eve of the Avengers final battle, they celebrated those achievements. They still had plenty of time to kill before getting in line and waiting for the premier of Avengers Endgame. Thankfully, they also had the love and passion to do plenty of avenging in the meantime.

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Jack Fisher’s Weekly Quick Pick Comic: Thanos #1

Every Wednesday, a new batch of comic books comes out to bring a badly-needed dose of awesome to a world that can never have too much. Not all of them are generic superhero comics. Not all of them are cheap kid-friendly comics full of talking animals and princesses, either. However, they all contribute to the overall awesome in their own unique way.

This week has more going for it than most. While new comics are certainly a joy to fans of superhero media, the upcoming release of “Avengers Endgame” is, by far, the bigger event. I would go so far as to argue that it’s the biggest event in the history of the superhero genre. However, that event wouldn’t be possible without the comics that birthed these iconic characters.

This week, one character is destined to stand out over everyone else and he’s definitely not a hero. He is Thanos, the Mad Titan who brings death, destruction, and wrath wherever he goes. He brought the Marvel Cinematic Universe to its knees in “Avengers Infinity War.” He’s done it more than a few times in the comics as well. However, “Thanos #1” dares to tell a different kind of story.

In this story, Thanos is still the death-loving, power-mad titan he’s always been. A good chunk of the narrative is spent reinforcing this in ways as brutal as anyone would expect of the Mad Titan. That brutality is important, but not just to Thanos. This story is more about Gamora than it is about him.

Thanos #1” isn’t just some extended flashback that reinforces how menacing Thanos is or why he’s one of Marvel’s greatest villains. This is Gamora telling her story about how she became the most dangerous woman in the universe under his guidance. It’s definitely a story worth telling and writer, Tini Howard, doesn’t gloss over the gruesome details.

Through Gamora, we see that Thanos isn’t just a cruel, mass murderer. He really is mad on many levels. There are times when he kills with a goal in mind. While that goal isn’t always logical, he does show that he knows how to employ tactics and he knows how to lead other killers into battle.

Then, there are the times when he just kills because he is not a stable mind. It doesn’t matter if it costs him valuable soldiers and crew members. He kills for the same reason other people collect Star Wars toys. He’s obsessed with it. In the same way some fans can never have too many Darth Vader action figures, Thanos can never have too much death.

Howard does plenty to flesh out this side of Thanos. By reinforcing the extent of Thanos’ madness, it makes Gamora’s role a lot more meaningful. That meaning is important because Thanos shows, time and again, that he’ll kill anyone and everyone without a second thought. Whether it’s an entire planet of pacifists or his own crew of murder-happy minions, he does not hesitate for a second when that murder itch strikes.

However, he does hesitate when he encounters Gamora. It’s not out of compassion or pity, either. Something about her stands out that sets her apart from the countless victims Thanos has killed throughout the cosmos. It’s not immediately apparent. It’s also substantially different than what we saw in “Avengers Infinity War,” but the underlying theme is the same.

It still carries dramatic weight and the artwork of Ariel Olivetti nicely captures that drama. Gamora, who narrates the story, doesn’t portray herself as an impressionable victim who was eager for a power-hungry madman to corrupt her. She was, by and large, just a young girl trying to escape a massacre with her family.

She didn’t come from a warrior culture. She didn’t have a violent streak in her. She was, by all accounts, just an ordinary alien woman who wanted to live peacefully in the only world she’d ever known. For her to become the most deadly woman in the universe, she had to be forced down that path and molded in the most brutal way possible.

It’s yet another testament to just how devious Thanos is, both in the comics and the movies. He’s not just capable of leading a team of murderers from one slaughter to another. He’s also capable of turning an otherwise innocent woman into one of the most deadly killers in the universe.

Thanos #1” is one of those comics that came out at the best possible time. Thanks to the events of “Avengers Infinity War” and the upcoming release of “Avengers Endgame,” the extent of Thanos’ villainy has become a major component of the superhero genre. He is the standard by which other villains are measured now and, like the movies, Gamora is part of that story.

Despite the differences between Thanos in the movies and Thanos in the comics, they share a common link through Gamora. She is an integral part of his journey, as a villain. She embodies just how much Thanos’ cruelty can shape and mold those around him. She is who she is because of Thanos and, as much as she hates it, he defines her.

Gamora’s story is not a pleasant one, but “Thanos #1” proves that it’s worth telling. At a time when all things Marvel are fueled by all things Thanos, the timing couldn’t be better for such a story.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Hard Working Men

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Talking about gender-specific issues can be touchy these days. I know this because I’ve done that on more than one occasion. While there are some undeniably difficult subjects within those issues, there are also some aspects that are undeniably fun. As it just so happens, many of those details happen to be of the sexy kind.

There are a lot of gender-specific traits that have incredible sex appeal. I don’t think I need to go into detail about why men find female breasts sexy or why women find Channing Tatum’s abs sexy. That kind of appeal speaks for itself. For the appeal that comes from men doing hard work, it’s a bit subtler, but every bit as powerful.

I know this because I’ve felt it. I’ve had days where I’ve labored away for hours on end, working up a sweat and straining muscles that I don’t normally strain. Going all the way back to high school, those days were rarely easy. However, those were often the same days at which I felt truly sexy, as a man.

It’s one thing to just work through general drudgery. There’s nothing too sexy about that. When you work hard and achieve something you’re genuinely proud of, though, it’s like slaying a dragon and winning the Super Bowl. For a man, it highlights the best aspects of masculinity. Some misguided people call it toxic. Most see it for what it is and a good chunk of it is sexy.

A hard-working man, straining his body and pushing his limits, is in the upper echelons of male sex appeal. As a man, I can attest how great it feels to achieve that level of manliness. I feel like a Daily Sexy Musing for it is overdue, but that’s okay because some sexy is always worth celebrating.

I grunt.

I strain.

I sweat.

I lift.

I push.

With every ounce of effort, I channel the power in every muscle. I endure the hot sun, the muggy air, and the dirty ground. There’s work to be done and I have the strength to do it. Through grit and grime, I don’t avoid it. I embrace it. I am a man and this is my finest hour.

The task is daunting. Every breath I take is labored and short. There’s pain in my body that’s impossible to ignore. Even so, I forge ahead. At first, the strain is distress. A part of me looks for any excuse to stop. Another urges me forward, turning pain into strength and strength into stamina. The more I hurt, the harder I work.

There’s a job to be done.

There’s a goal to be reached.

There’s a challenge to overcome.

I do not waiver, letting every beat of sweat pour down my body. I can feel the eyes of others on me, watching as I turn my manly strength into something real and tangible. I sense the growing awe in their eyes. Respect and admiration comes easy when you’re strength is there for all to see.

I want them to see it.

I want them to know it.

I want them to respect it.

My hands get dirtier. The scrapes and scars accumulate. Pain and discomfort keep trying to dissuade me. At every turn, they fail. I am a man, working hard and earning his lot. Whether in gold or respect, I know my value. Now, I have proven it.

I am at my strongest.

I am at my greatest.

I am at my most fit.

In the presence of such a man, what will we do? What more can we achieve?

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Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Easter 2019 Edition

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Easter is one of those holidays that’s a big deal for a few and an afterthought for most. Unless you belong to a certain subset of Christianity, it probably doesn’t register much as a holiday. For me, personally, it has a special place in my heart, but not for religious reasons.

Growing up, my family made it a point to get together every Easter and just share a big dinner that was right up there with Thanksgiving. It was never done for religious reasons, even though a sizable part of my family is religious. It was just a big, fun family gathering full of food, deserts, and even a little Easter Egg hunt for the kids.

As I’ve gotten older, these gatherings have been more difficult as my family has spread out. However, we still find a way to celebrate and I still consider it special. I may not care much for the religious connotations, but I can certainly appreciate the time spent with family and the bunny-shaped chocolates that often go with it.

Easter may never be on the same level as Christmas or Thanksgiving, but it’s still an excuse for a celebration and you can never have too many of those. Whether it’s with family or a case of beer, it’s as fun as you’re willing to make it. This batch of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts is my way of getting everyone into the Easter spirit, but without referring to religion or wearing a giant bunny costume. Enjoy!


“What does it say when it takes a lot of violence to make something obscene, but only a little bit of sex?”


“Babies are one of the few things that can be both an accident and a success.”


“Sexy accents are one of the few aphrodisiacs that have no side-effects, can be taken with alcohol, and require no prescription.”


“Good sex is can be freely given, but quality lovemaking must always be earned.”


“It’s very likely that food and oral sex are humanity’s oldest negotiating tools.”


“Whoever tested the first dildo had to have been exceedingly both very horny and very brave.”


“Love one of those unique feelings confuses the brain, overwhelms the genitals, and defies description.”


Whether you celebrate by going to church, searching for Easter Eggs with kids, or cooking a ham dinner, there are so many ways to enjoy this holiday. It may not be the flashiest or sexiest holiday on the calendar, but it has everything necessary to create a good time for friends, family, and lovers alike. As such, I hope everyone has a safe, happy, and sexy Easter.

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