The following is a review for “X-men Red #9” that I wrote for PopMatters. Enjoy!
Marvel’s ‘X-men Red #9’ Gets into Psychic Wargames and Battling Ideas
Tag Archives: Jack Fisher
October 26, 2018 · 11:46 pm
Daily Sexy Musings: Love And Quickies
Who doesn’t enjoy a good quickie? When you think about it, there’s something wholly pragmatic about the concept, just getting sexy and getting the job. There doesn’t have to be an elaborate setup or a drawn-out act of passion. It can be quick, brief, and effective. We value that sort of efficiency in every other part of our lives. Why not apply it to our love lives?
Quickies get a bad rap, in my opinion. They’re seen as shallow and unromantic. I respectfully disagree. I believe they can be a powerful tool in our romantic arsenal. When used correctly, they can compound our passions rather than undercut them. The key is using them correctly, which I believe is possible, but difficult.
The following Daily Sexy Musing attempts to apply the power of the quickie. There is a right way and a wrong way to go about it. When done wrong, it can be pretty bland. When done right, though, it can be a special kind of sexy. Enjoy!
I walk into a room. There’s no candles, no fancy dinner, and no fancy lingerie. There’s only you and me, two lovers in a private setting. That’s all we need. That’s all we’ve ever needed. This time, however, there’s no room for seduction. I tell you with my gaze that I intend to skip every typical step from seduction to afterglow.
We skip the banter.
We skip the teasing.
We skip the ambience.
We skip the theatrics and get right to the good stuff.
I don’t say a word and neither do you. We just approach one another and let primal instincts do the rest. Somewhere between our first gaze and our first embrace, our clothes come off. There’s no theatrics or coy antics. We know what we want, we remove the barriers, and we go about getting it.
Now naked and free, we kiss and we touch. We don’t bother being gentle. Our needs outweigh our wants. Our every passion is channeled, focused a singular task. We crave each other’s love in its most basic form. A simple kiss, a simple touch, and a simple gesture is all it takes. From there, we take a short-cut to ecstasy.
There’s no wasted effort.
There’s no wasted breath.
There’s no wasted energy.
We don’t even make it to the bedroom. Any enclosing or piece of furniture that can accommodate our presence will do. We find the nearest site. We align our bodies accordingly. From there, our flesh unites and everything falls into place.
We don’t hold back.
We don’t draw it out.
We don’t squander a single moment.
Every movement takes us closer and every touch draws us nearer. It’s the ultimate shortcut, a direct route to the heights of passion. We let ourselves be reckless and greedy, allowing our lust to subvert our love. The end result is the same, a sweet release of euphoria between us. It’s takes only moments, but the impacts run much deeper.
It’s quick, but meaningful. We get what we want and we cherish the feeling. No words are needed. No explanation is necessary. We can make love like angels and mate like animals in heat. One way or another, our passion finds a way. Some are just more direct than others.
Filed under Daily Sexy Musings
Daily Sexy Musings: Early Morning Loving
A while back, I wrote a musing about the added sexiness of late night loving. I had a lot of fun with that, contemplating all the lurid things adventurous lovers might do under the cover of darkness. When the sun goes down and people get restless, they’ll find creative ways to occupy their passions. It’s a beautiful thing.
In the preface for that musing, I mentioned that I’m not a night owl. However, I am very much a morning person. In fact, I would go so far as to say I’m kind of morning person that does his best work and his best loving at the crack of dawn. That may sound strange to those who struggle to get out of bed, but that’s how I’m wired and I make no apologies for it.
In that spirit, the following Daily Sexy Musing is a testament to the spirit of early-morning people like myself. More specifically, it’s also an exercise in how that spirit can be channeled into intimate endeavors. Enjoy!
The sun has risen. The first rays enter the window, illuminating our domain and our sleeping bodies. The light hits me and my eyes open. I sense you lying next to me. I remember how we entered the bed, tired and drained. Now, that is no longer the cast.
My body is rested.
My mind is clear.
My heart is eager to start the day.
We work so hard, every other minute of the scarce time we have in this world. We reserve so many moments for the tedious act of living, toiling and struggling in the name of sustenance. To sacrifice so many waking hours, we want and need a sliver of temporal bliss, if only to remember why the rising sun matters.
That moment is here.
That time is now.
I roll over and stir you from your slumber. I find that you’re already awake. Your eyes go from groggy to alert in an instant. You feel it too, the light of the sunrise warming our flesh. Gone is the darkness and all the exhaustion that came with it. We are recharged and reinvigorated. What are two lovers to do with so much energy?
I smile at you and you smile back. No words are necessary. We know what we want. The world is still waking up, but we’re already roused. For some, making love is an endgame for a long day. For us, it is a catalyst.
We waste no time. There’s no need to remove any clothes. We’re already naked, a proactive act from the night before. We skip the theatrics, logistics, and setups of intimacy. We’re already there. Like starting the race at the finish line, what we desire is literally lying next to us.
Under the morning sun, our naked skin touches.
Under the morning sun, our love is illuminated.
Under the morning sun, our passions are ignited.
Like a spark triggering a firestorm, a simple awakening becomes an intimate journey. Rested and rejuvenated, we are at our strongest. As such, our love is at its most powerful. The fruits of peaceful slumber taste so sweet. Lips, skin, and gasps of bliss signal the start of new day.
The sun is now risen. Our love has been made. From here on out, our day can only get better.
Filed under Daily Sexy Musings
Daily Sexy Musings: Late Night Loving
Some people are night owls. Whatever they do, be it dancing at clubs or underwater basket weaving, they just function best at night. I am not one of those people. I never have been. I’m a morning person, by nature. I do my best work bright and early, whether it’s writing a sexy story or working out.
While I tend not to function as well at night, I can appreciate the appeal it has for some people. I’ve been out late at night before. There’s something inherently exciting and even a little sexy when it’s dark, quiet, and eerie. It’s like hiding in a shadow, free from scorn and scrutiny. It allows us to be a little bolder. For some, it allows us to be a little naughty as well.
What follows is a Daily Sexy Musing dedicated all those naughty things we do under cover of night. Whether it’s sneaking over to see your lover or just sneaking in a shot of whiskey past midnight, it adds a little spice to our lives and that’s worth celebrating.
The clock strikes midnight. Then, it passes. The air gets colder. Every light gets a little dimmer, from the moon to a candle. It’s like a blanket covering every inch of land. None can escape its grasp, but I’ve no intention of running towards the light.
I got your call. Your voice is so soft, yet it booms in the late hour. While everyone else sleeps, your loins are wide awake. You want me. You need me. I’ve no intention of denying you. No matter the hour, my passions keep me alert. They guide me to you and my legs cannot carry me fast enough.
Through the darkness, your love finds me.
Through the late hours, your lust rouses me.
Through the blackest night, your presence lures me in.
For once, darkness is an ally and not an obstacle. Too many people are home resting. Too few people are out and about, creating noise and prying eyes. It’s like the entire world is letting its guard down. I don’t have to filter my feelings. From the most romantic to the most lurid, I can follow every one of them with impunity.
When we finally meet, it’s like the darkness is affirms our every whim. It surrounds us in its protective shroud, hiding us from the constraints that attempt to contain our wildest whims. In broad daylight, there’s only so much we can do to express our love. Without that daylight, we are truly free. It’s as if the night is daring us. Except, we don’t need to be dared.
In the darkness, I don’t just want to make love.
In the darkness, I don’t just want to hold you.
In the darkness, I don’t want to settle for something careful and safe.
Together, we find a place that neither the sun nor moon can hope to reach. I smile at you and you smile at me. You have the look of the most angelic angel and the most devious demon at the same time. You’re not going to be gentle with me. I intend to return the favor.
Under cover of night, we don’t just get undressed. We rip our clothes off.
Under cover of night, we don’t just make love. We ravage one another with our passions.
There is no restraint, limit, or burden. There is only us and our passion, unfiltered and raw. Under the light, it is a lurid spectacle. In the late hours of the night, it is real. Thanks to the darkness, though, it is ours.
Filed under Daily Sexy Musings
Jack Fisher’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Intimate Cuddling Edition
I like to cuddle. No, I don’t consider that unmanly. No, I’m not going to apologize for it. In the same way I’m an unapologetic romantic who admits to sleeping naked, I happily say outright that I enjoy cuddling. If you think less of me because of that, then that’s your problem.
I don’t know when it became cool for men to despise something as simple as cuddling. For reasons I don’t understand, it’s one of those things that people consider girly. Saying you enjoy cuddling is the same as admitting you have shriveled balls and bad breath. Even among women, it’ll get most men awkward looks.
I think that’s one of the many gender-driven tropes that we need to crush with a 50-ton boulder and a gallon of napalm. I know from my experience with ex-girlfriends that cuddling can be fun, sexy, and even a little kinky if you do it right. I won’t get into specifics, but if any of my ex-girlfriends are reading this, I hope I conjured some pleasant memories.
I doubt I’ll convince anyone that cuddling can be both sexy and manly today, but I can couple it with my weekly does of Sexy Sunday Thoughts. If nothing else, I hope this convinces you to try a little extra cuddling with your lover the next chance you get. You may be surprised by how much you enjoy it.
“Drinking and driving is dangerous, but drinking and flirting is hilarious.”
“Having big balls is the only compliment that can also be a diagnosis.”
“Finding a lover is like finding a G-spot in that it can be pretty messy, but rewarding.”
“When you think about it, every romantic endeavor contains some element of prostitution.”
“Cuddling is just a PG version of foreplay.”
“Food critics and oral sex enthusiasts utilize similar methods in refining their craft.”
“A fashion statement is just someone silently proclaiming how far they’re willing to go to get laid.”
I hope that put everyone in a more cuddly mood. The weather is starting to change. We have at least six months of cold weather ahead of us. Now is as good a time as any to exercise your cuddling skills. It can help keep you warm, save money on heating, and enhance your sex life. What’s not to love?
Filed under Sexy Sunday Thoughts
“Roughly Forbidden” A Sexy Short Story
The following is a sexy short story I wrote about sexual taboos and the kind that may emerge in the future. Given how much I write about gender politics, this is something I contemplate more than most. It can be depressing, but it can also inspire sexy stories. This is just one of them. Enjoy!
“I like it rough.”
There was once a time when a woman could say those words with a straight face and nobody would think much of it. They might see her as kinky tastes, but she wouldn’t be ridiculed for it. However, those days were long gone and Jessica Jermaine was too young to remember them.
At 28-years-old, she lived in a very different world. Everyone was so careful. Every intimate act, sexual or otherwise, was carried out with a level of vigilance that felt so comical in principle, but no one dared laugh. One wrong move became a single act of recklessness. A single act brought accusations. Accusations brought condemnation. Not all of it was of the legal variety, but it was sufficient to keep everyone on their toes.
“I shouldn’t have to do this,” Jessica said to herself as she sat anxiously at the foot of her hotel bed, “but that’s the world we live in. I don’t like it, but it’s too late to change it.”
She sighed to herself as she waited intently, the digital clock on the hotel dresser moving painfully slow. She wasn’t supposed to feel so tense. Jessica was on an overdue vacation, one her co-workers at the law firm she worked at urged her to take. She didn’t deny that she’d been extra uptight lately, but even her closest friends didn’t realize why she felt that way.
Looking away from the clock briefly, she glanced towards the mirror next to the kitchen sink. On the surface, Jessica had no reason to be miserable. She was a beautiful young woman, blessed with the same fit, feminine frame that her mother and two older sisters had. One of her college roommates once told her she had the looks that opened more options than most. She could set higher standards than most in pursuing love, sex, and everything in between.
Jessica had done plenty of that. As soon as she began filling out bras in high school, she basically had her pick of love interests. She could just walk up to a guy, start talking about random topics, and within a half-hour, she had him wrapped around her finger with little effort. She got to lose her virginity to one of the stars on her school’s basketball team. She even got to sleep up with his best friend and teammate afterwards when she got bored of him. That destroyed their friendship, but they were the ones who got the scorn instead of her.
“You thought you could get everything you want because of your looks,” Jessica said to her reflection. “You didn’t think you’d ever have to pay the price. I can’t believe how wrong you were.”
She scolded her reflection while recalling how her reckless behavior played out. She continued that decadent streak into college, going through men the same way some people went through pairs of shoes. Over time, though, Jessica came to regret how many hearts she broke and how easy she got away with her behavior. Whenever she did something wrong or selfish in her relationship, she rarely got blamed for it. Only the men she dated got blamed.
If she cheated on them, it was their fault because they didn’t satisfy her.
If she lied to them, it was their fault because they made it so she had to lie.
If she broke up with them for bad reasons, it was their fault because they were lucky to be with someone like her in the first place.
There was literally nothing they could do to villainize her. At the end of the day, Jessica Jermaine was still a beautiful young woman who had every possible option. Moreover, she needed those options because her looks made her a target. Being the object of every straight man’s lurid desires, she needed extra leeway. It was the only way she could be safe.
That was the over-arching assumption. Nobody said it out loud, but that was how society managed beautiful women who could rouse a man’s passions just by looking at him. It wasn’t fair. Even Jessica couldn’t deny that. Things had a way of balancing themselves out, though. Given all the benefit she’d enjoyed since puberty, though, it almost felt like a punishment.
“Fuck, I’m so horny,” Jessica groaned as she looked back towards the clock. “Why does being wrong have to be this frustrating?”
She shifted her legs uncomfortably, trying to ignore the blaring signals her body kept giving her. It was one of the worst parts of her punishment, but the most fitting in the grand scheme of things. She liked rough sex. She liked it so much that it was one of the only ways she could regularly climax. Unfortunately for her, getting rough sex meant jumping through some frustrating hoops that didn’t used to be there.
As Jessica lamented those barriers, she heard a knock at the door. Almost immediately, she shot up from the bed and rushed over to answer. Her legs were already weak, her every fiber aching with desire. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to wait much longer.
“Are you Devin?” Jessica asked through the door.
“Yes,” a deep, masculine voice replied.
“Okay, I’m opening the door now.”
Jessica took a deep breath, ready to endure the most awkward part of the elaborate ordeal she’d set up. She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping aside and covering her eyes in the process. The man she knew only as Devin entered, closing the door behind her and locking it quickly. She could hear him being extra-thorough, using both the lock and the latch to secure the door.
“Please make sure you’re looking away,” he told her. “For my safety, please put your hands over your eyes.”
“Don’t worry. I know the drill,” she replied.
That was being generous. Jessica knew the procedure a bit too well. The hardest part was already behind them, having organized a meeting through a secure chatroom and a screening service. The second hardest part was maintaining anonymity. That helped ensure her safety, but it was mostly for Devin and men like him.
As she stood in the foyer, closing her eyes and looking away, she already knew what Devin was doing. He took off his coat, hat, and sunglasses, which most men in his line of work had to wear while on business. He might have been wearing a wig, as well, for all she knew. It was all for a reason, though.
Jessica couldn’t afford to see his face and neither could he. That was the only way to ensure they both had the necessary leverage. The fact it took such an elaborate procedure said a lot about their respective circumstances.
“You can open your eyes, now. I’m ready, Jessica,” Devin said.
The young woman opened her eyes and turned around. Much to her relief, she saw only as much of the man that she needed to see.
Standing before her in her mid-level hotel was a masked man in blue jeans and a red T-shirt. He had a tall, imposing stature as well, standing over six feet tall and bearing the kind of broad shoulders that reminded her of the athletes she’d dated in high school. He might have even been a former athlete, but she didn’t dare pry into his story. The less she knew about him the better. That was just part of why he wore a mask that covered everything except his eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Thank you for meeting me tonight,” she told him. “I really need this.”
“Yeah, you made that abundantly clear in the chat room,” Devin replied. “You claimed that no women has ever needed an ‘extensive massage’ as much as you.”
“And I stand by that claim. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
“I guess we will.”
He almost sounded skeptical, but Jessica looked back at him with serious eyes. She made it clear to him that she’d meant what she said when she answered his ad. She also knew the unique jargon of his chosen industry. An ‘extensive massage’ was only half-accurate, at best. What it truly entailed often brought out too many mixed feelings, especially among other women like her.
“Everything is set,” Jessica said. “Your donation is on the table.”
“Mind if I check it, first?” Devin asked, sounding as serious as her.
“Go ahead,” she told him. “I’ll wait on the bed.”
“No. Wait right there,” he said. “If you really meant what you said, then it’ll work best if we do things my way.”
He spoke with such a stern, authoritative tone, the kind that most men were too afraid or too careful to use anymore. It was so forceful and direct. Jessica’s inner thighs moistened on the spot, her pants feeling unbearable at that point. Still, she remained patient.
She watched with anxious anticipation as the masked man walked over to the kitchen table and checked the unmarked envelope she’d laid out. Inside, it contained money and a slip of paper containing a QR code. That code was for anonymous digital currency that made up the bulk of her donation for his services. He took out his phone to check it. Once certain that it was good, he smiled to himself and turned back towards her.
“Everything looks good,” Devin told her. “I’m ready to begin.”
“So am I,” Jessica said, not hiding her desperation.
“We’ll see about that.”
Then, like a hardened prisoner breaking free of his, the imposing man stormed over to her, grabbed her by the neck, and forced her up against the wall next to the bed. Suddenly, she went from having all the leverage in the world to having none whatsoever. At that moment, she was at the mercy of a powerful, masked man.
“From here on out,” he told her, his tone deep and menacing, “I’m going to fuck you. I won’t be gentle. I won’t be careful, either. I’m going to be as reckless and rough with you as I damn well please!”
“Yes! I…want that,” Jessica gasped.
“Shut up!” Devin barked.
He slammed his fist on the wall next to her head, evoking as much fear as it did arousal. Even with his hand around her neck, she felt the arousal between her legs intensified. At last, the feeling she so desperately sought was in her grasp. A man, unafraid and unconcerned by her beauty, was going to ravage her.
Devin made those intentions clear as he crashed his lips onto hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth and pinning her against the wall with his body weight. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe with him pressed against her and his hand around her neck. As Devin aggressively kissed her, he hungrily groped various parts of her body, giving extra attention to her breasts and even slipping his hand into her pants. He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t seek her consent. He just did it, an act so taboo that people stopped joking about it years ago.
It was no laughing matter for Jessica, though. The way Devin kissed and touched her – hard, aggressive, and full of the toxic masculine lust she’d been taught to fear – set the tone for the devious act she was about to experience. There was no getting around it. She was about to do something that would’ve left every woman her age aghast.
Devin seemed to know that too. After kissing so hard that she struggled to breathe, he abruptly released her lips from his and leered over her with domineering intent.
“For once, this isn’t about what a pretty girl with nice tits wants,” he told her. “It’s about what I want!”
Jessica, too scared and aroused to form words, just nodded feebly under his grasp. She wasn’t used to being so trapped within a man’s grasp. She didn’t know many women who had ever been in such a position.
“You’re going to get on the bed, strip naked, and take my cock like a horny bitch in heat,” he went on. “Do you understand?”
That kind of vulgarity shocked her. In fact, Jessica was certain that saying those words in that tone to a woman would’ve gotten Devin arrested on the spot. It was jarring, but it also reminded her why she had to go to such lengths to get the experience she want.
“I…understand,” Jessica said weakly.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you. Speak up!” Devin demanded.
“I said…I understand,” she told him.
“Louder!” he commanded. “Say it like you really need it…more than anything you’ve craved.”
He squeezed her neck a little harder and pressed her up against the wall, so much so that he lifted her off the floor. It left her even more vulnerable, but it also made her even more aroused, as if Devin had somehow tapped into a well of forbidden desire.
“I understand!” Jessica shouted. “Please…do it to me.”
She wasn’t sure if that had been weak enough. She barely knew what a weak, vulnerable woman sounded like anymore. It sounded so foreign to her, but it seemed to do the trick. Devin finally loosened his hold on her.
“Good,” he said sternly. “Now, let’s get down to business!”
The imposing man backed away from the wall and shoved her over to the bed, not showing the least bit of concern for her. Already short of breath and shuddering with adrenaline, Jessica practically tripped over the mattress, falling right on top of the clean sheets she’d done so little to ruffle since she arrived.
She could still feel Devin’s shadow over her, his lecherous leer never once diverting from her. It filled her with a mix of dread and excitement, so much so that she didn’t know where one feeling ended and the other began. Jessica didn’t care there. For once, she wasn’t going to make sure a man followed the proper protocol in getting her into bed.
“What are you waiting for? Get naked!” Devin ordered.
“I…I’m doing it. I promise,” Jessica said, unable to hide her arousal.
That came off as so awkward, being aroused and frightened at the same time. It didn’t kill the mood, though. It also didn’t stop her from doing what he said.
With trembling hands, Jessica stripped out of her shirt, pants, and shoes. Devin did the same, practically tearing off his shirt before taking off his pants as though they were on fire. The only thing that stayed on was his mask, keeping his face obscure. She couldn’t know the face of the man who was about to ravage her. Nobody could.
She had only gotten down to her bra and panties by the time Devin kicked off his pants, though. That gave her a clear view of his semi-erect penis. It was even bigger than he’d described in his ad. The idea of a man – especially one tasked with being rough and reckless with a beautiful woman – shoving that into a woman on his own terms seemed outrageous. It felt like one of those old concepts that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore, like slavery or gender-based discrimination.
It was still going to happen, though. He was really going to thrust that dick into her and she actually wanted it. That thought caused her to hesitate before taking her underwear off.
“Why are you stopping? Take it all off!” Devin shouted.
Not waiting for her to comply, he stormed over to the bed and ripped off her bra on the spot. Jessica gasped upon hearing the fabric tear, her breasts tumbling out on the whims of someone other than her.
Before she could get over that shock, Devin did the same with her panties. He tore them off with ease, exposing her intimate areas to someone who hadn’t requested to see it, let alone fuck it. Instinctively, she hugged her shoulders to cover her breasts, but the imposing man didn’t let her.
“Hey! No cheating,” he said. “Here…let’s get a good look at your tits and pussy.”
Once again using his strength to full effect, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up off the floor. He then got onto the king-sized bed and laid her down in the center, making it so she was as exposed and prone as possible. When she tried to cover her breasts again, he didn’t let her, grabbing her wrists and pinning them up next to her head.
“Yeah…that’s a rare sight,” Devin said, his eyes hungrily raking over her, “a beautiful, naked woman just lying there for the taking…my taking.”
He gazed upon her as though she were the rarest of spectacles. That might not have been far from the truth. The idea of any woman submitting to a man’s most toxic lusts must have been as jarring for him as it was for her. It must have been arousing too because just gazing at her naked body rendered his dick very erect.
“Look at you,” he said as he hovered over her, trailing his hand over her breasts. “This really is making you horny, isn’t it?”
He gave her breasts a hard squeeze, causing her to gasp. However, it wasn’t one of discomfort or dread. It had the distinct tone of a horny woman…one who hadn’t been satisfied in a long time.
As if to further convince her, he slipped one hand down between her legs, showing little reservation as he rubbed the outer folds of her pussy and inserted a finger into her vagina. That intensely forbidden feeling – to insert something into a woman’s genitals without warning or consent – raised the stakes of the act that awaited her. What they were about to do was very wrong in the eyes of the world around her, but it didn’t matter. She still wanted it so bad.
“I can feel it!” Devin said, sounding almost surprised. “Your pussy is so wet and hot. This isn’t just random thrill-seeking, is it? You really like it, don’t you? You like rough sex.”
“Yes!” she said without hesitation. “I…I love rough sex.”
It must have seemed pathetic, a beautiful woman like her admitting something so deviant. He was genuinely astonished. Jessica could tell. It put her efforts to hire a male gigolo – an act not entirely illegal, but still very taboo, especially for someone like her.
“I don’t envy you,” he told her. “Having a kink like that…no wonder you had to find a guy like me to get it.”
“I know. I’m a freak!” she admitted. “I’m a beautiful woman and I like to be fucked hard. Mock me for it later. For now, just…give it to me. Please…don’t make me beg.”
That sounded even worse, but it got the point across. She was desperate, having to resort to extremes to get the sex she wanted. As a beautiful woman, she was used to getting everything she desired with minimal effort. The fact she had to go to such elaborate lengths for such a devious experience spoke volumes about her and the world she lived in.
“You’ll get what you want,” Devin said firmly, “and so will I!”
With a mix of urgency of lust, the imposing man ceased his groping and got on top of her. He forcibly pushed her legs apart, not being gentle or caring in the slightest, and aligned his rigid manhood with her pussy. Jessica kept her hands at the side of her head, demonstrating a submission that few women dared, and braced herself for Devin’s unbridled lust.
Through a simple thrust of his hips – again, with no warning, consent, or affection – he entered her. Sharp sensations of hard penetration surged through her body. It came at her like a bolt of lightning, igniting nerves and evoking feelings that were so rarely stimulated. Jessica gasped at the feeling, but was quickly silenced by an onslaught of the hardest, roughest sex she’d had in a long time.
“Yeah! That’s it, you horny bitch!” Devin said with a domineering grunt. “Take it! Take it hard…just the way you like it!”
Such vulgar words in such a crude tone offended her on some levels, but intensified the feeling on many others. Devin ravaged her like an animal freed of his chains, working his body against hers, humping her hard with every fervent motion. Jessica’s world rocked in accord with his movements, her breasts bouncing and her body contorting to the feeling of a big, hard penis pumping into her depths without a shred of reservation.
He wasn’t careful in the slightest. There was no pause in between so he could get her permission to do something. Devin did not follow the script of her many other lovers. She was not the arbiter of their sex. She didn’t initiate the act or set the tone. Her status as a beautiful young woman who always had leverage meant nothing anymore. The entire sexual dynamic that she had been taught was thrown away. Instead, she was just a sexual outlet for a horny, aggressive man.
“This is it,” she said as her world shook. “This…is what I wanted. To be fucked…ravaged. I…I love it!”
Just admitting that out loud felt like she was betraying everything she’d been taught about normal sex. Unfortunately, normal sex just didn’t do it for Jessica. She needed something deviously abnormal else to achieve the satisfaction she sought.
Devin did his part to deliver. He maintained that hard, rigorous pace of sex. His hands still gripping her thighs, he forced her legs harder apart so he could get in deeper with every thrust, stimulating the innermost recesses of her womanhood. That alone triggered a unique flood of sensations, the likes of which sent her to the brink of orgasm.
It usually didn’t happen that quickly. For Jessica – and for most girls she knew – getting that sweet sexual release took considerable effort. She really had to work at it, making heavy demands on the man as well, guiding them through various sex acts and expecting them to prioritize their pleasure before they could get theirs. A man’s orgasm was akin to just rolling down a hill where a woman’s was an ascent up a mountain.
That was not how it played out with Devin. Jessica’s love of rough sex just triggered something within her – something she didn’t know existed until she dared to defy convention, as she understood them. Deviant or not, the orgasmic bliss was still plenty potent.
“Ohhh! Coming…I’m coming!” Jessica exclaimed as the feeling approached.
“Already? Damn!” grunted Devin.
Then, in an act that heightened the defiance, Devin released his grip on her left thigh and grabbed her by the throat. With the same aggressive intent he’d shown earlier, he choked her as she crossed the threshold. It was an act of naked domination, a powerful man imposing himself on a vulnerable woman. Rather than offend her, though, it brought her intense pleasure.
“Ack!” was all she got out before the orgasm hit.
It struck her like a tidal wave, the hot release of raw pleasure. Jessica squeezed the sheets with her hands, curled her toes, and arched her back as every muscle below her waist was set ablaze with orgasmic sensations.
It was so intense that Devin actually had to slow the pace of their vigorous sex. Even through his mask, he looked genuinely impressed.
“Wow. You are so…I don’t even know the word!” he said. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but…I like it!”
Jessica barely heard him over feelings of orgasmic bliss, but she got the message and understood the sentiment. The idea of a woman enjoying such deviant sex – let alone a man who admitted to wanting it – was just so problematic. She could agonize over it later, though. There were still plenty more rough sex to enjoy.
“Guess that means I’ll just have to fuck you harder!” Devin said with a devious grin.
Still dazed by pleasure, Jessica just nodded while under the imposing man’s grip. The first orgasm usually just set the tone. From that point forward, it was just a matter of venting the pent up desire.
Devin took full advantage of that. Not waiting for her to recover from her orgasm, he resumed the heated rhythm he’d established earlier. He even got bolder, using both hands to choke her while he humped her fervently. Jessica did nothing to fight it, choking and moaning helplessly as her world kept rocking. Having completely surrendered to a man’s lustful whims, she braced herself for more sex.
He didn’t hold back, ravaging her in every way he could and not once asking whether he had her permission. He decided their positions. He chose how hard and how fast they fucked. Jessica was just along for the ride. He turned her over, laid her flat on her stomach, and took her from behind. He then pulled her up onto all fours, stood up on the bed, and pumped his cock into her while slapping her butt repeatedly. It stung, sending surges of pain and degradation. Jessica still loved it, though. In fact, she courage it.
“Harder!” she cried out. “Do it harder!”
He gladly obliged, slapping her so hard she could feel marks forming on her naked skin. She’d probably have to hide them for a while. If any of her friends saw them, they would freak out. It was worth it, though…so incredibly worth it.
In that position, Jessica had another orgasm. Again, it came with such ease, the reckless intensity of their sex providing abundant stimulation. Devin didn’t slow down, though. Even as she came, he kept fucking her in a selfish pursuit of his own pleasure.
He must have realized how rare it was, a man being allowed to ravage a beautiful woman like her. He really drew it out, as though he didn’t want it to end too quickly. Jessica couldn’t blame him. She had no idea how many other girls like her there were, beautiful young woman who enjoyed rough sex and getting dominated by a man. Based on everything she’d been taught about normal sex, it couldn’t have been many.
Devin made good use of the opportunity and the time for which she’d paid him. He fucked her long and hard, going at it from several more positions that did plenty to ruffle the sheets on the bed. She climaxed several more times as well. Each time she did, he choked or spanked her a little harder. It helped her catch up on all the satisfying sex she hadn’t had, despite all the eager lovers she’d entertained. It also helped him eventually get to his own special peak.
“I’m getting…so close,” he grunted. “Can’t hold it…much longer!”
There was real strain in his voice. Jessica could tell he didn’t want it to end, but his stamina – physical and sexual – was near its limits. She had already had more than her share of orgasms. Devin still craved his release. For that final moment, though, he managed one last act of decadence.
“On your back!” Devin ordered. “I’m going to…come on your…face.”
“Mmm…I’m ready,” Jessica told him.
It shouldn’t have been so appealing. A man climaxing on a woman’s face was supposed to be a relic of a bygone era where men oppressed women regularly. She was supposed to be repulsed. Instead, she licked her lips as though she were about to eat her favorite treat.
Now on her back once more, she laid in the center of the bed as Devin delivered the last round of rough sex. He pumped his cock into her extra hard, the hard smacking sound of his pelvis smacking into hers echoing throughout the room. She could see through his mask the strain of the approaching pleasure, as though it were a dam ready to burst.
Finally, after the necessary number of thrusts, she sensed Devin cross the threshold. With more urgency than she had ever seen in a man, he withdrew his cock from her pussy, positioned himself on top of her, and aimed it at her face. Then, after he gave it a few more strokes, he ejaculated with a force that defied Jessica’s knowledge of male biology.
“Ohhh fuck!” he exclaimed.
Like pent up volcano, thick streams of seminal fluid erupted from the imposing man’s dick. It splattered onto her face in messy globs, dripping down her nose, face, and neck. Some even ended up on her breasts. He must have really held back to release that much cum. It must have been really satisfying too because she had never heard a man sound that content from an orgasm.
“So much cum,” she mused at it covered her face. “Men…they still amaze me, but not as much as women.”
An extended moment of awkwardness followed. Devin remained over her, still rubbing his cock until every last drop of fluid was extracted. He continued gasping for air, his manly flesh glistening with sweat after so much exertion. Jessica had worked up a sweat with men before, but not like that. It was quite a sight.
As they caught their breath, the imposing man rolled off to her side and laid next to her for a brief moment. She barely moved, not even attempting to wipe the streaks of manly juices off her face and breasts. Every muscle below her waist was still burning from rough sex and multiple orgasms. She was also fairly certain she had a mark the shape of his hand on her butt. Had Jessica not been so drained and content, she would’ve laughed.
She briefly glanced over towards Devin, who looked every bit as satisfied. She was usually pretty talkative after sex, but had little to say. She was still tempted to reach over and embrace him, offering her sincere gratitude for giving her the rough sex she so sorely needed. However, she never got the chance.
“We’re done,” Devin said flatly.
In the blink of an eye, the imposing man that had fucked her so hard reverted back to the overly-careful demeanor that she’d seen in so many others. He couldn’t get off the bed fast enough. He didn’t even make eye-contact with her as he got dressed, making sure to keep his mask on every step of the way.
Jessica wanted to feel insulted after what they just did, but she couldn’t blame him for being so distant. She knew what they had just done. She knew what happened to men like him if anyone even accused him of doing it.
“Thank you,” she told him, offering what gratitude she could.
“No need for thanks,” he replied, still not looking away as he put on his shoes.
“I still mean it.”
“So do I,” Devin replied. “You said it yourself. You know the drill. This is the only way people like us can do this sort of thing.”
“People like us?” she questioned.
“You don’t need to play dumb. You wouldn’t have known how to reach me if you were,” he said as he retrieved his money and made his way to the door. “You and me…we’re at the mercy of what we’re supposed to want instead of what we actually want. We live in a world where a man can’t fuck a woman the way I just fucked you and a woman can’t admit she likes it. That’s why it has to be this way…hidden, secret, and deviant.”
With those ominous words, he exited the room, leaving her naked on the bed. He almost seemed scared. That was pretty remarkable, given his stature and the intensity with which he’d just fucked her. It didn’t make sense that a woman like her had to solicit the services of a man like him to get the satisfaction she craved, but there was no way around it. That was just the way it was.
“I still like it rough,” Jessica said to herself. “If that makes me a deviant in the eyes of everyone else in this crazy world…so be it.”
Filed under Sexy Short Story
Exploring Radical (And Kinky) Idealism: “Wonder Woman Earth One Volume Two” Review
When “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 1” came out in 2016, it was groundbreaking in how it re-imagined Wonder Woman while reconnecting her with her kinkier roots. For years, she’d been moving away from the unique brand of feminism that her creator, William Moulton Marston, had once defined her. This culminated in her 2017 movie in which all the BDSM connotation were purged from her persona.
While many creative forces over multiple decades turned Wonder Woman into someone very different from her creator had intended, Grant Morrison and Yanick Paquette went in the opposite direction. They dared to embrace the kinks and reshape Wonder Woman’s story in a way that works while retaining Marston’s original themes.
That story remains one of my favorite Wonder Woman stories of all time and one I’ve gone out of my way to praise. Finally, after a two-year wait and a prolonged absence of kink from superhero comics, “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” has arrived. Fans of warrior women, feminist utopias, and not-so-subtle bondage themes can rejoice.
Like any sequel, it faces the inescapable challenge of matching the high bar set by its predecessor. On top of that, it also has to dig deeper into an aspect of Wonder Woman that generations of writers have tried to overwrite or ignore. Even with an elevated profile, thanks to her movie, this is a part of Wonder Woman’s persona that is largely unknown or undeveloped.
The greatest challenge of Volume 1 was to reintroduce Marston’s radical concepts of love, submission, and domination in a way that didn’t feel like bad fan fiction. Morrison and Paquette succeeded by building the story around this dazzling, techno-feminist utopia on a mythology built on ideas that seem antithetical to the world dominated by lies, mistrust, and cynicism.
If the goal of that story was to affirm the potential of these ideas, then “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” is built around how those ideas are challenged. It’s one thing to defend them on an island paradise populated by immortal warrior women of unyielding compassion. It’s quite another to defend them in a world where gay frogs inspire conspiracy theories.
Wonder Woman’s situation is considerably different this time around. She’s not insulated on her island paradise. She’s well-known public figure, an established superhero, and a vocal proponent for her radical ideology. She presents it as a viable way of achieving peace and justice in a world full of suffering and hatred. Unlike other wide-eyed idealists, she comes off as entirely genuine.
Not surprisingly, the world isn’t eager to sign up for her novel approach of peace through submission to a loving authority. It doesn’t just come from grumpy old men who only want women to make babies and sandwiches, either. Even among other women, her ideas are challenged and deconstructed throughout the story.
What does it even mean to submit to a loving authority?
Why is she so sure that it’ll work in the world outside her idyllic homeland?
How are men supposed to approach this concept?
How far is she willing to go to implement her ideas?
These are all difficult questions that get asked throughout the story. Wonder Woman doesn’t avoid these questions, but she doesn’t get a chance to answer them either. Even though she is celebrated by many, nobody seems capable of embracing her ideology as completely as her.
To further complicate this challenge, Nazis enter the picture. Trust me, it’s not as shallow as it sounds. The story isn’t built around Wonder Woman acting like Captain America, traveling the world and punching Nazis. In fact, the way she handles her enemies in this story is very different to the methods she used in the “Wonder Woman” movie. However, that’s where the story gains both complications and nuance.
Through a few flashbacks and side-plots, we get to see how Wonder Woman’s ideology confronts something that’s completely antithetical to everything she stands for. Initially, it looks like her approach works. She’s so compassionate and so empathetic that she can take violent, hate-filled Nazis and redeem their souls. That’s where the complications come in.
In both the events that unfolded in the past and those that play out in the present, we see shortcoming of Wonder Woman’s ideals. It’s not that someone taints or disproves them. As the conflict plays out, we see how the components necessary to make her ideology work aren’t as abundant as they are in her homeland. As a result, Wonder Woman pays a price for her idealism and it’s a steep, heartbreaking price.
Not all of it is a direct result of her ideology, though. Wonder Woman also deals with a devious adversary in Dr. Psycho, who effectively turns her ideals against her. He doesn’t just question or deconstruct the merits of submission to a loving authority. He manipulates them to his own ends, which plays right into the hands of her critics.
It’s tragic in that it leads to heartache for Wonder Woman and her friends, but it stops short of breaking her. This is Wonder Woman, after all. Loss, defeat, and criticism do not break her. No mortal or God can break her. Those are her words, not mine. These challenges, however, put her in a difficult position where she has to confront unpleasant truths.
Without spoiling too many plot points, I’ll note that Wonder Woman comes to realize that there are grater complexities to loving submission than she ever could’ve realized. She sees first-hand how difficult it is to get someone to willingly submit in a world where weakness can invite harm, exploitation, and injustice. Just preaching her message isn’t enough. By not doing more, it costs her and those she cares about.
In terms of the larger narrative, “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” is a wonderfully effective evolution of the world that Morrison and Paquette created. Along the way, the story continues to embrace the unique principles of the original iteration of Wonder Woman that Marston crafted in 1942.
Not entirely, that is.
If there’s any shortcoming to the narrative, it’s how incomplete it feels at the end. It’s not a cliff-hanger, but there are many lingering plot threads that don’t get resolved. Granted, it says on the final page that there is a Volume 3 planned for this series. Given the two-year gap in between this book and its predecessor, the wait seems nothing short of agonizing.
Even with those dangling threads, “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” is still a complete Wonder Woman story that’s unlike anything you’ll get in the movies or comics. If I had to score it, I would give it a 9 out of 10. The lack of resolution at the end is the only thing keeping it from a perfect score. It still gets so many things right about who Wonder Woman is and why she’s so endearing.
The fact that she can be endearing while retaining the radical spirit that Marston had envisioned helps make “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” all the more remarkable. She’s not just a fierce warrior woman. She’s the personification of a different approach to gender, power, and love. It may seem bizarre and kinky to us, but it has powerful implications for people of any gender.
It doesn’t go overboard with the BDSM undertones, nor does it focus heavily on gender politics. They are mentioned, but not forced into the plot. There are things Wonder Woman does that feminists, conservatives, and BDSM fans can get behind. At every turn, she carries herself as someone who is willing to embrace everyone. It’s that unconditional, universal compassion that makes her Wonder Woman.
Daily Sexy Musings: The Joys Of Afterglow
I make a big deal about romance. On top of that, I make a big deal about passion, intimacy, and the fundamentals of expressing love. I’ve even made a big deal about foreplay. I make no apologies for any of that. If anything, I’ve every intention of belaboring these topics in the best possible way.
Then, there’s the concept and phenomenon of afterglow. It’s a critical, but underrated aspect of romance. It’s one of those things that’s hard to describe, but you know it when you feel it. It’s that special feeling you and your lover experience after love has been made and bliss has been achieved. It’s the calm after the storm. It’s the lingering aftertaste of a delicious desert.
It’s the part of love and lust that rarely makes it into a romance movie or a porno. Like foreplay, it’s often undervalued or under-appreciated. For someone who writes and talks about these sexy topics so much, it feels like an oversight. I hope to rectify that moving forward and I’d like to start by making afterglow the subject of this Daily Sexy Musing. Enjoy!
Together, we exhale. Our breath and hearts are in perfect harmony. A light sweat clings to our naked flesh, mixing together in an intimate blend. Every inch of flesh tingles with the lingering sensations of bliss. The shared effort to make our love real and tangible is a success, but the feeling is not yet complete.
As we lay together, we feel exhausted, but energized. Thoughts finally settle, yet feelings remain so intense. Our minds are clouded and dazed, drunk on the experience we just shared. It took focus and effort to go along with love and desire. Together, we made it work. Now, the fruits never tasted so sweet.
Together, we are satisfied.
Together, we are complete.
Together, we are love made real.
Together, we are passion turned flesh.
In the latest hours of the night or the brightest light of day, our spirits glow with uncanny radiance. The sun, the moon, and all the stars in heaven don’t stand a chance. Together, we create our own celestial brilliance. Where others burn out, we burn brighter.
The first kiss was the catalyst. The afterglow is the bonus. It isn’t the primary goal we seek, but it’s a welcome byproduct. It is the clearest possible sign that we made our love the right way. We worked hard in all the right ways for all the right reasons. Our bodies and souls moved together in synch, exerting the energy of our passion and evoking the breadth of our feelings.
From one touch, it became an gesture.
From one feeling, it became a connection.
From one act, it became an experience.
Like a ripple that became a wave, it grew to great heights and impacted greater depths. It consumed us and we embraced it. We ascended to great peaks and descended into great valleys. The line between exhilaration and contentment blur. Uncertainty disappears and complications melt away. From a moment of loud proclamations to one of quiet peace, one constant unites it all.
We’ve made our love.
We’ve expressed our passions.
We’ve united our flesh.
The spark that ignited our world now burns steadily. In the gentle glow of our bodies and souls, we are complete and then some.
Filed under Daily Sexy Musings
Daily Sexy Musings: Well-Dressed Men
You can tell a lot about a man by how he dresses. Say what you will about someone who wears fancy clothes and buys overpriced hair care products. A man who puts genuine effort into how they look says they value the image they present. It’s not always out of pure vanity. When done right, a well-dressed man can have genuine appeal, including the sexy kind.
I can safely say that I feel genuinely sexy as a man when I put on one of my suits. It’s not just that the suit costs more than discount T-shirts from Wal-Mart. It gives me a sense of confidence and worth. I worked on myself and a nice suit helps put it all on display. The following Daily Sexy Musing is my way of giving that unique feeling some substance to go with the style. Enjoy!
I stand in front of the mirror, wearing a freshly-ironed shirt, a perfectly-tailored pair of slacks, and an imported silk tie that was grossly overpriced. I don’t mind, though. I put it on with pride, smiling to myself as I smooth it out and fix every wrinkle. Then, I put on my blazer and button it up.
It marks the end of a masculine metamorphosis. I’m no longer the man who groaned restlessly as he got out of bed. Now, I’m a man ready to take on the world and look good doing it. Everything about me feels more refined. My poise, my demeanor, and my attitude are heightened. There’s nothing I can’t achieve.
I turn around and see you standing in the door. You look at me the same way you look at a beautiful sunset. You’ve seen me at my best and at my worst. You’ve seen me naked and wearing clothes so cheap they barely qualify as rags. However, in that moment, I become something greater in your eyes.
I am a man of confidence, determined and driven.
I am a man of worth, having strived and earned.
I am a man of grit, willing to work and achieve.
You walk over to me. You place your arms around my neck. You feel the fancy fabrics now covering my body. It may only be the shell, but it makes everything within shine brighter. I feel your admiration in every glance. As I take in your touch, I sense more than admiration.
In these clothes, overpriced they may be, you don’t just see the man I am. You see the man I strive to be. Through what I ware, I say to you that I want to be more. I seek to be a man that others respect. More importantly, I seek to be a man you desire. With every admiring glance, I know I’m succeeding.
I can tell you want me.
I can tell you love me.
I can tell you feel my love.
As I hold you, the fancy fabrics cling to my skin. From a rough-cut diamond to a polished gem, I am the best man I can be for you. It’s enough to make you want to tear my suit off and show why you’re the best lover a man could hope for. I know you want to. I feel it as your hands tremble.
I share your want, but I cannot forget. There is work to be done. I let you admire me as long as you need to. I then whisper into your ear a tantalizing preview of what awaits us tonight. Your smile widens and your face blushes. I’ve just given us both something to anticipate.
I put this suit on with goals in mind and determination in heart. You give me a reason to wear it with pride and honor. Now, I look forward to the moment when you help me take it off.
Filed under Daily Sexy Musings
Five Overused Romantic Sub-Plots (And How To Fix Them)
Being a self-professed romance fan, I know more about the intricacies of romantic sub-plots than most men would ever dare admit. I’ve consumed an absurd amount of romantic media over the years and I’ve noticed more than a few common themes, some more endearing than others.
However, by consuming so much romantic content, I’ve also seen certain themes get overused and badly mishandled. I could list countless instances promising romantic sub-plots collapsing because it fell into a narrative trap. Sometimes, it’s because of poor writing. Sometimes, it’s because the story has too many constraints. I’ve even cited a few famous cases that exhibit both.
Whatever the case, it’s not hard to screw up a romantic sub-plot. I’ve done that more than a few times with the stories I’ve written. Lately, though, there are certain types of sub-plots that have lost their luster. They’ve either been done too many times or haven’t innovated in way too long.
Overused or not, I believe there are elements of these sub-plots that are worth saving. They just need some refinement and polish. What follows is a list of five overdone romantic sub-plots, why they’ve become so bland, and how to fix them. I’ve covered some of these elements before. This is just the romance lover in me offering some tips for future romance stories.
Romantic Sub-Plot #1: Best Friends Turned Lovers
Why It’s Overdone
I think you can thank sitcoms like “Friends” and movies like “Clueless” for this sub-plot to fall out of favor. Personally, I blame Ross and Rachel for giving this theme a bad name. They took the whole friends-falling-in-love plot way too far. Towards the end, it was more annoying than compelling.
These days, this sub-plot isn’t as common as it used to be. I think a lot of romance fans were burned out on it in the 1990s and early 2000s. There’s only so many times a character can say in so many words “I didn’t realize that what I was looking for was right here in front of me” and sound genuine.
How To Fix It
Simply put, this sub-plot needs to shake up the setting. Too many times, a story about friends becoming lovers is built around one friend having had feelings for the other over many years. That can be sweet when done right, but it’s way too easy to be done wrong. These days, it almost comes off as a long con or stalking.
To fix it, the emphasis needs to shift towards two characters undergoing major upheavals. Perhaps they go through a tragedy or trauma that changes the way they feel about other people. It can’t just be restricted to their friend/lover, either. This upheaval should affect their entire world and from there, they come together in a new way.
It has the potential to show two characters go through major growth as individuals, which eventually turns into growth as a couple. That kind of growth can work wonders for any romance and could offer something more meaningful than old friends hiding their feelings.
Romantic Sub-Plot #2: Love Triangles
Why It’s Overdone
I’ve already made my hatred of love triangles very clear. I’ve gone so far as to cite one from the X-men as the worst of all time. Beyond the comics, though, it’s not hard to see cases of this sub-plot done horribly wrong. Even contemporary romance like “Twilight” and “The Hunger Games” have made this troubled trope more insufferable.
Simply put, love triangles reduce everyone involved to prizes or plot devices. It’s next to impossible to make every character in a love triangle feel like a real character. It turns romantic development into a competition and in the long run, nobody wins and certain characters lose badly.
How To Fix It
I’m tempted to say that love triangles should be abandoned and killed with a 12-gauge shotgun, but I’m not a fan of throwing away romantic themes, no matter how much I despise them. For this particular theme, I think it needs more than just a fix. It needs a complete overhaul.
By that, it can’t just involve two people competing for someone else’s affection. That gets old fast. If there is going to be a love triangle, then it should actually take the time to show why someone is torn in the first place. It needs to be clear that someone genuinely loves more than one person and there’s a reason for that love.
This is also a sub-plot that may benefit from shifting taboos. Non-monogamy is becoming more mainstream and there aren’t many real romance stories about that idea that aren’t bad pornos. A love triangle has to stop being an either/or plot and become a why/how plot. There needs to be a concerted effort to ensure everyone involved gets some sort of emotional resolution that doesn’t involve someone getting screwed over.
Romantic Sub-Plot #3: Destined Lovers
/arc-anglerfish-tgam-prod-tgam.s3.amazonaws.com/public/XR5X6MCWYJHRNNLIMW6UO6Q6MA.jpg)
Why It’s Overdone
If you’ve gone through any high school English class or are just familiar with certain literary traditions, you’ve probably seen this in all kinds of media. “Romeo and Juliet” is probably the most famous, but it still shows up frequently throughout romantic media. It’s prevalent in movies like “Titanic” and comics like “Superman.”
Don’t get me wrong. I have a soft spot for star-crossed lovers who are destined to fall in love, but it’s a very bland sub-plot. There’s no real sense of conflict. You know two characters are going to end up together and where’s the intrigue there?
How To Fix It
For this sub-plot, I think a simple shift in context would help. Most romance featuring destined lovers emphasis how they come together, despite the obstacles in front of them. I think it might be more compelling to explore why these characters are star-crossed to begin with. Is it just destiny or are there other forces at work?
There are a lot of factors that go into romance, even those of the non-destined variety. Why not explore the concept of destiny, as it relates to love? Why not dig a little deeper into the intricacies of how it unites people so completely? That wouldn’t just offer a meta-perspective of love, as a plot device. It would give us all an opportunity to reconsider what it means to be in love.
Romantic Sub-Plot #4: Love At First Sight
Why It’s Overdone
This sub-plot is very similar to the destined lovers trope. It’s often a pre-cursor to two people finding out they’re destined to be together. For many of the same reasons, it’s pretty bland and basic. One character sees another, some sappy music starts playing, and the love story is effectively laid out.
We see it happen very overtly in “Romeo and Juliet” and “Titanic.” We see it manifest in some form in most romantic comedies. A character just sees someone they find attractive and that becomes the catalyst for their love. It’s sweet, but not very deep and it has just become too predictable at this point. When two people fall in love at first sight, what other story is there to tell?
How To Fix It
This one can’t be fixed with the same methods as the destined lovers sub-plot. This is one of those plots that doesn’t have to be radically altered, but definitely needs fresh nuance. Finding that nuance means injecting more than just love into the mix when two characters first meet.
The first encounter between two characters is always pivotal. It helps set the tone for their relationship, romantic and otherwise. To make this sub-plot work in new ways, characters need to intrigue each other in new ways. It can’t be enough that they’re attractive. There has to be something else about them.
Maybe the character has a skill that someone has never seen before. Maybe the character causes someone to re-think a past assumption. Maybe it sends them on a new journey that their love interest can join. There are many opportunities here. There doesn’t have to just be one.
Romantic Sub-Plot #5: Sex Complicating Love
Why It’s Overdone
This one is probably the most overtly sexual romantic sub-plot that also happens to be the most predictable. Ironically, it’s “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me” that summed it up best. Things go from “Don’t worry, it won’t get weird” to “It got weird, didn’t it?” That’s every sex-complicating-love story in a nutshell.
This one also has the burden of being weighed down by long-standing sexual taboos. While it may seem like those taboos have faded in the 21st century, it’s still the slutty women and stud men who die first in slasher movies. Sex, even in a romance story, still comes off as something dirty that somehow undermines a romance.
Even though sexual attitudes have evolved a great deal, the idea that sex complicates/ruins a relationship hasn’t moved very far. It’s why sex tends to be an afterthought in modern romances. Sometimes, it’s ignored or assumed and that’s just a waste of quality sexual chemistry.
How To Fix It
As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I’ve been working on that for years. While I can’t claim to have a definitive answer, I have surmised a few ideas turn sex from a complication to a catalyst. It doesn’t have to be overly titillating or pornographic, although that can work. It just has to supplement the romance rather than subvert it.
Sex in romance is often treated like an endgame. It’s marks the culmination rather than the progression of a relationship. I believe that’s a missed opportunity. In any romance, sex should function as a progression, of sorts. It takes the relationship to a new stage, one where new opportunities for emotional and personal growth emerge.
When two characters have sex, it can be more than just a chance to depict genitals and female breasts. It can be an exercise of intimacy where two characters strengthen their bond, rather than sully it. That gives greater meaning to the sexiness and nothing makes romance hotter than genuinely meaningful sex.
Filed under Marriage and Relationships, media issues, polyamory, romance, sex in media, sexuality
Jack Fisher's Official Publishing Blog 