The following is a comic book review that I wrote for PopMatters for Mighty Morphin Power Rangers #24. Enjoy!
Mighty New Worlds and Mightier Complications in ‘Mighty Morphin Power Rangers #24’
Tag Archives: Jack Fisher
February 26, 2018 · 5:42 pm
Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Slushy Roads Edition
There are people who love winter snow. I used to be one of them and I don’t deny there’s an inherent beauty in seeing a winter wonderland unfold outside your door, preferably from a heated room with a warm cup of cocoa. Even though I still plan to retire to a tropical climate after I sell enough sexy novels, I still appreciate winter scenery and fully understand those who love it.
However, I’ve yet to meet someone who sees any beauty in the slushy mess that covers the streets when the snow stops being pretty and the rain starts mixing with the ice. There isn’t much beauty or sex appeal to that stuff. Even I’m reluctant to try and craft something from it and I wrote a sexy short story about being snowed in.
Slush and wet roads aren’t very sexy, especially when warmer weather and the prospect of not having to wear layers outside is so close. There’s only so much an aspiring erotica/romance writer can do to inject sex appeal into a situation, but I’m still going to try.
That’s why I’m dedicating this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to shared misery we all feel when we see more slush than winter wonderland. We’re not quite through winter yet, but it’s going to get drearier before it gets sexier. It’s always worth the wait, though, and these sexy thoughts should help make it more bearable.
“When you think about it, a slap on the ass is an impromptu test of the durability of your humping muscles.”
“The noises people make during sex says a lot about their enthusiasm and experience, as well as the lack thereof.”
“Virgin women are the physical embodiment of a new car smell while virgin men are the embodiment of a failed TV pilot.”
“Texting during sex is like juggling during heart surgery. It’s a significant detriment to the process.”
“A morning blowjob from your lover is like a fresh cup of coffee, but a quickie in the shower is like an overpriced latte with extra foam.”
“Does the fact we make so many divine references during orgasm mean sex counts as a form of praying?”
“The inherent health benefits of orgasms make sex the nutritional equivalent of free vitamins.”
These sexy musings won’t wash away the slush or make the winter end any sooner, but I hope it makes the prospect of spring and summer that much more enticing. Slush is ugly. Pouring rain that doesn’t involve a wet T-shirt contest in Cancun is miserable. The most we can do is let nature take its course and find a way to be sexy along the way.
Filed under Sexy Sunday Thoughts
“Rescued Hearts” Is Out TODAY!
Today is another milestone in my endeavor to become a successful erotica/romance writer. I’ve been looking forward to this day since late last year when I announced that Totally Entwined Group, the same publisher who published “Passion Relapse,” agreed to publish another one of my novels.
That achievement, in and of itself, was pretty big. Just getting one novel published in “Passion Relapse” was tough enough. Some may even call that a fluke. One bit of success can be attributed to luck or circumstance. Just ask Trent Dilfer. Two published novels, however, is not a fluke. It may very well be the start of a trend.
That’s why I’m so excited to announce the official release of “Rescued Hearts,” my second published novel of Totally Entwined Group. If you liked “Passion Relapse,” you’ll probably enjoy this story too. However, this is a very different kind of story. It’s still a love story. It still has plenty of sexy elements. It’s just the application of those elements that’s different.
“Rescued Hearts” is the kind of story in which two people just finding each other isn’t enough. There are obstacles that will actively hinder their ability to be together and I’m not just talking about laundry habits. The obstacles here are serious and downright dangerous.
The love and passion in this story can’t just blossom on its own. It has to be earned. That’s why I believe it’ll strike the right chords with those who appreciate love, romance, and the sexy elements that make it so special. Winter isn’t over yet, but this sexy story will help guide you through.
“Rescued Hearts”
By Jack Fisher
Have you ever fallen in love with an angel? Candy Carter has. A self-proclaimed trailer-trash princess, she seems destined to live a life of quiet deviance in Haven Hill, a dying rural town overrun by drug dealers and criminals.
Then, in her darkest hour, EMT Ryan Roth saves her life when a forest fire ravages her town. That fateful encounter doesn’t just endear him to her heart. It inspires her to leave Haven Hill and build a better life, much to the dismay of her jealous ex-fiancé, Paul Reynolds. She runs away, enrolls in college and tries to become the kind of woman who was worth saving.
But just as that life seems to be taking shape, Candy crosses paths with the man who’d been her angel, only to find out that he’s divorced and miserable. As they reconnect, old dreams transform into new passions and hope for the future for them both. However, Candy’s old life comes back to haunt her. Her angel may not be able to save her this time, or they may both lose their lives.
As always, I encourage everyone to both read the book and provide feedback. I’m always open to discussing the sexy and non-sexy elements of the story. That kind of feedback helps me become a better writer and I want to keep writing more sexy stories, be they novels or the sexy short stories I occasionally share.
I also have plenty of other sexy stories I hope to get published. I consider “Rescued Hearts” just another step in the process. I hope to share more news about future novels, be they with Totally Entwined Group or some other publisher. Until then, please take the time to enjoy this sexy tale of romance, passion, and everything in between.
Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Valentine’s Day Recovery Edition
By now, I hope everyone has had enough time to recover from Valentine’s Day. Whether it’s from reminders of how much being lonely sucks or serious rug burns from excessive lovemaking, I hope everyone has healed up. If Hallmark wants more of our money, they’ll just have to wait until Mother’s Day.
I like to think I’ve gotten better at handling Valentine’s Day alone. Thanks largely to the loving support of my friends and family, especially my awesome mother, I don’t get as miserable or depressed as I used to. Don’t get me wrong. I still want to find love one day. Until that day comes, though, I’m content knowing that I can handle being single.
In the meantime, there are still plenty of other meaningful ways to celebrate love. As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I certainly intend to do my part. I’ve got plenty of sexy stories to tell, both with the upcoming release of “Rescued Hearts” and my sexy short stories.
That said, I totally understand if certain people are just plain burned out on love and romance right now. To those people, I say take all the time you need. Let this week’s edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts get you back into a less Hallmark-driven mindset. Enjoy!
“There’s no polite way to ask a friend for money for the same reason there’s no polite way to ask a lover for anal.”
“A lover’s willingness to be intimate with their partner is directly proportional to their willingness to mix their laundry.”
“Sometimes using a vibrator during sex is akin to using cheat code. Other times, it’s more like having extra tools to make the job easier.”
“Pulling a muscle during sex is like getting a flat tire. You can still move forward, but you’re risking more damage by doing so.”
“A person who invents a better smartphone will never create as much joy as someone who invents better lube.”
“When you think about it, an orgy is just the sexual equivalent of binge-watching.”
“For some people, talking dirty during sex is the difference between a T-bone steak and an under-cooked hot dog.”
For those of us who are still single, take comfort. You’ve survived another Valentine’s Day. For those who are in relationships, take comfort as well. You also survived another Valentine’s Day. It can be an arduous effort for both, but it’s one that’s worth enduring. We all need to make time for love. If that means enriching executives at Hallmark once a year, so be it.
Filed under Sexy Sunday Thoughts
How I Had A Good Valentine’s Day Last Year (Thanks To My Mother)
It’s that time of year again. That’s right. It’s Valentine’s Day. To some, it’s a day where you can get away with being a little extra romantic with your lover. To others, it’s a conspiracy by Hallmark to sell more greeting cards. To people like me, namely those who are single and alone, it’s sometimes a harsh reminder that loneliness sucks and we all yearn to be loved.
I’ve talked a bit about my struggles as a single guy whose single status seems to get more taboo with age. I’ve also shared some difficult personal experiences that highlight why Valentine’s Day has been my least favorite holiday over the years. For someone who claims to be such a big fan of romance, I imagine it sends mixed messages.
I still consider myself a fan of love, intimacy, and everything else Valentine’s Day stands for. I gladly cheer those who have someone special to spend this day with. It’s just tough when you’re stuck spending this couples-friendly holiday by yourself. Most people who know me tend to understand I’m a little jaded this time of year.
However, there have been times when I’ve had a genuinely good Valentine’s Day while still being single. One of those times actually happened last year. I didn’t share it because I didn’t know whether it was worth sharing. Now, as I’ve come to appreciate that day more and more, I feel like this is something I should put out there on a day like this.
Around this time last year, I was planning to spend much of my Valentine’s Day alone again, either writing sexy novels, reading comics, or just doing whatever it took to distract myself. I had gotten so used to spending this romantic holiday that I was kind of resigned to my fate.
Then, I went out to get the mail and got a letter. It wasn’t a bill, a coupon, or an ad. It was a letter from my mother. Curious, since she usually texts or emails me when she wants to talk, I opened the letter and found this card inside.
I’m not going to lie. I had the biggest, goofiest grin I’ve ever had outside of a comic book store or a donut shop when I saw it. My mother had actually gone to the effort of finding me a card, stuffing it in a regular envelope, and sending it to me, postage cost and all. It would’ve been easier to just send a few texts with some funny gifs, but my mother is someone who goes the extra mile.
In addition to the card, there was a note on the back. Since it’s somewhat personal, I won’t recite it word for word. That’s between me and my mother. What she wrote, though, really made my day and warmed my heart. She reminded me that, even when you’re alone on Valentine’s Day, you can still feel loved.
I needed that reminder. I needed it more than I cared to admit. Once again, though, my mother proved that she knows me better than I know myself sometimes. She understands why I’ve struggled to find love and how hard I’ve worked to overcome those struggles. She and the rest of my family have helped me every step of the way. Most importantly, though, she always made sure I felt loved.
I still have this card. It’s one of those special little mementos that I can turn to whenever I’m feeling miserable, restless, or unloved. On a day like this, though, it carries an even greater meaning. It’s a meaning that helps make Valentine’s Day feel special, even when you’re single like me.
Now, I know I’m exceedingly bias in this sentiment, but I don’t care. I’ll say it anyways.
MY MOM IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST!
Yes, I used all caps. Yes, I’m shouting that as loud as my computer will allow me. No, I don’t care if you disagree or think that’s childish. It’s a sentiment worth sharing on Valentine’s Day and I gladly share it with everyone, single or otherwise.
Also, I know my mother is a regular reader of this blog. Even though it sometimes discusses sexy and exceedingly unsexy issues, she supports me in everything I do and encourages me every step of the way.
With that in mind, I’d like to thank my wonderful mom for making Valentine’s Day great for me again. Mom, I know you’ll probably read this at some point, but I mean it. You’re the best! Thank you for being the best Valentine that a single guy like me can hope for.
Filed under Jack Fisher's Insights
Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Tropical Longing Edition
It’s early February and in addition to me lamenting another Valentine’s Day spent alone, this is also the time of year when I sincerely wish I lived in a more tropical climate. I actually have a few friends and relatives who live in Florida and never have to wear more than a light sweatshirt when they go outside. They just love rubbing that in my face every chance they get.
While that sort of sentiment is annoying, it still inspires me to long for warmer, sexier climate. It also inspires me to start planning my vacations for the spring and summer. I made a big deal out of the wonderful time I had at the beach last year. I intend to risk more sun burn and do it again.
Unfortunately, I still have to make it through a few more weeks of winter. If the forecast from this year’s Groundhog Day is any indication, then it’s going to be a longer wait than usual. That’s just going to give my friends and relatives more reasons to rub their tropical lifestyle in my face.
I can’t do much about the weather, but I can make the wait easier. In my experience, few things warm the body and soul up better than some sexy musings. That’s why I’m dedicating this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to all those longing for time in a tropical climate. Trust me, you’re not alone in this sentiment.
“Men can never compete sexually with experienced lesbians because fingers and tongues don’t get flaccid.”
“A man has no idea how much he hates his own gender until he has a hot daughter.”
“Being able to cook doesn’t inherently make a person sexier, but great sex rarely occur on an empty stomach.”
“Sharing is caring, but humping is more rewarding.”
“The dedication of a lover is directly proportional to how willing they are to be in the same room when you’re throwing up.”
“Having a toned ass is like having a powerful engine. You rarely need that kind of power, but you like to know you can use it at some point.”
“Is it possible that some sluts are just being extra thorough in vetting their options?”
These sorts of sexy sentiments may not deliver the same feeling we get when we lay on a tropical beach under the warm mid-day sun, but I hope it reminds us why those feelings are so special. I’m already done with cold weather. I still hope to spend time in a tropical setting at some point this year. I encourage everyone else to do so and enjoy all the sexy thoughts that come with it.
Filed under Sexy Sunday Thoughts
“Love Like Champions” A Sexy Short Story (About Super Bowl LII)
The following is a short, sexy story that was directly inspired by the outcome of Super Bowl LII and some of the passionate Eagles fans that I know personally. Enjoy!
“This game, Darla…this fucking game,” said Adam Mayfield, sounding more stressed than any man in his mid-30s should.
“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that, Adam,” Darla groaned, who’d stopped trying to calm him down.
“You’ve been keeping track?”
“What else is there to do when we’re out of buffalo wings and cheese dip?”
“I’m sorry, damn it!” he said. “It’s just…I had this same feeling 13 years ago the last time the Eagles played the Pats in the Super Bowl. That did not turn out well.”
“No need to remind me,” said Darla. “I remember…more than you know.”
He probably didn’t hear that last part. He was too caught up in the spectacle that was Super Bowl LII. Darla had anticipated a stressful night since the Eagles topped the Vikings two weeks ago. She and her long-time boyfriend, Adam, were as big an Eagles fan as they came. Them being in the Super Bowl was a test of heart, in more ways than one.
Unlike Adam, Darla hadn’t been born in Philadelphia. She’d moved there from Scranton about 15 years ago, following her father and uncle, who helped her get a job at a mortgage company. Being from a family with three brothers, each being big football fans themselves, she thought she knew what it meant to be a fan when she embraced the Eagles as her home team. Adam proved her wrong.
“How can I love a team so much, but be so frustrated by them?” Darla groaned.
She made it a point to say that out loud, hoping her lover would get the message. Either he was ignoring her or he’d tuned everything out. She was inclined to believe the latter, but Darla could never be sure. Adam was such a passionate man. That was a big reason why she fell in love with him. The frustrating part was how he channeled it during football season.
Adam came from a long line of Eagles fans. He’d been born in Philadelphia. His parents, grandparents, and siblings were all passionate about their team. During every game in every season, they wore their heart on their sleeve, cheering and lamenting their team through every win and every loss.
Darla thought she could handle cheering with them. She learned early on that Adam and his family were on a whole other level. It showed in how elated they were when the Eagles won and how miserable they were when the Eagles lost. However, even though she’d been with Adam for over a decade, she’d never seen him react to a Super Bowl loss. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“I may have to take a trip to Baltimore tomorrow,” she muttered.
As much as Darla wanted to convey her sentiment to Adam, she too had an investment in the game. She didn’t want to see her team lose either. She was sick of getting crap from the Cowboys, Steelers, and 49er fans in her family, whose teams had multiple rings while hers had none. That had to change at some point, but she preferred it changed tonight.
“It’s not enough of a lead,” Adam said, his hands clasped together as though he were praying to the football gods. “38 to 33 with more than two minutes left and Tom fucking Brady at quarterback? If the Falcons couldn’t hold on with a 25-point lead last year, for crying out loud!”
“These aren’t the Falcons, babe. These are the Eagles,” Darla reminded him. “This is our team.”
“I know. That’s what scares me even more.”
His pessimism was annoying, but usually right. There was a reason why the Eagles had never won a Super Bowl. They had a tendency to choke in these exact situations whereas the Patriots seemed to thrive.
Darla stayed on her side of the couch, almost not wanting to watch Brady pull off another late-game miracle at the expense of her favorite team. She couldn’t turn away, though. She kept watching.
It felt like her stomach was up in her throat. She noticed Adam anxiously tapping his feet, something he only did when he was extremely nervous. The last time she saw that kind of nervousness, he asked her to move in with him. She could only imagine the kind of tension he felt now.
It was second and two from the 33. The Patriots offense had over two minutes left, a timeout, and the greatest quarterback of all time being coached by one of the greatest coaches of all time. It seemed like the story had already been written. Brady would drive the Patriots down the field, score the game-winning touchdown, and go home as a six-time Super Bowl champion while the Eagles remained winless in the big game.
“Please, just get it over with,” Adam groaned. “My heart can only take so much of this shit.”
“They’ll find a way,” said Darla, trying to will the fates in her team’s favor. “They have to!”
They watched on. The ball was snapped. Then, it happened.
“FUMBLE!” Adam shouted, shooting up from the couch as though he’d been struck by lightning.
“THEY GOT IT! EAGLES BALL!” Darla said, shouting as well.
In an instant, the mood shifted from dread to elation. She shot up and embraced her boyfriend and cheered at the sudden turn of events. She could even hear the cheers outside. All of downtown Philadelphia must have seen what they just saw. The Eagles had just forced a fumble and recovered the ball. The sight of Tom Brady, the so-called greatest of all time, sitting there on the turf in defeat was just too satisfying.
“It’s really happening. They might really do it!” Darla cheered, still clinging to her boyfriend.
“I know! It’s not over yet, but they’re close!” Adam exclaimed. “They’re so goddamn close this time!”
“Then, you better hold onto me, babe. I’m still not sure this is real.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not letting go until the last tic on the clock!”
It might have been superstition. It might have been the sheer weight of the moment. Whatever the reason, she and Adam clung to one another, still trembling with excitement at the prospect of their team finally winning the Super Bowl. If that moment finally came, it had to happen when they were in each other’s arms. It just had to be that way.
Her heart still racing and her passions still in overdrive, she and Adam sat back down on the couch. He grasped her hand firmly while she clung to his favorite Eagles jersey, which he wore for every game. They watched as the Eagles did the most they could with the ball.
They ran it three times, taking as much time off the clock as possible. They couldn’t get a first down, but they still managed a field goal, putting them up 41 to 33. There was still a minute left. Even with no timeouts, it was still the New England Patriots. It was still Tom Brady at quarterback.
“41 to 33,” Darla said, holding her lover a bit closer. “That’s going to be the final score.”
“I hope you’re right, Darla. I really do,” Adam said, still affected by the Eagles’ history of disappointment.
“It’ll happen. I know it will. You’ll see!”
She made it sound as though she’d already seen the final score. Darla learned early on in her time as an Eagles fan that victory was never secure. However, she refused to give into the dread this time. She was certain her team would win.
The next minute might have been the longest in the history of sports. The Patriots got the kickoff. They messed up on a few plays, but managed to move the ball to midfield. With each yard they gained, she felt Adam tremble a bit more, doubt and dread creeping into him with every play. She held him a little closer, as if to protect him from it. She wanted him to believe as strongly as she did.
Finally, it all came down to one play. With 9 seconds left and no timeouts, it was down to a final Hail Mary to the end zone.
“This is it,” Darla told him. “This is the last play of the game.”
“Please, be right,” Adam said. “I want you to be right…so much.”
“I know.”
“No…I don’t think you do.”
Darla cast her lover a strange glance, but didn’t have time to scrutinize it. The play was about to go off. As soon as the Patriots snapped the ball, time seemed to move in slow-motion.
For a moment, it looked like Brady would get sacked. She sensed Adam wanting to shoot up and cheer. That didn’t happen, though. He managed to escape, as he always did, and got the throw off. At that moment, Darla almost felt her heart crack again.
“Not this time,” she said in defiance.
She and Adam watched, like a couple of deer looking at an oncoming train. The ball hung up in the air for an eternity. The game clock now read zero. It all came down to this.
Finally, in an instant, it actually happened. The ball hit the ground. The pass was incomplete. The game was over and the Philadelphia Eagles were Super Bowl champions.
“YES! THEY DID IT! THEY REALLY FUCKING DID IT!” Adam exclaimed.
“THEY WON! OH MY GOD! THE EAGLES WON!” Darla exclaimed.
In a moment of pure, unadulterated elation, Darla and Adam cheered with the rest of Philadelphia. They jumped up from the couch and hugged, as though they’d just won the lottery. Earlier that year, winning the lottery seemed more likely than seeing the Eagles win their first ever Super Bowl. After only knowing disappointment for so long, Eagles fans like her and Adam could finally say that they won.
They kept wildly hugging each other and cheering, watching as the confetti fell on their favorite team. They didn’t care that they knocked over some empty beer bottles and crumbled up bags of chips. Their team had won. For once, she and Adam knew what it felt like for their favorite team to be a Super Bowl champion.
At one point after all the cheering, they settled down enough to face each other. Adam hadn’t let go of her since before the fumble. She hadn’t let go of him either, still clinging to his favorite jersey. Now, in this moment of pure elation, they looked at each other with a sense of both shock and triumph.
“You were right, babe. You were right,” Adam said.
“Yeah, I guess I was,” Darla said with a smug grin.
“You really have no idea how much I wanted the Eagles to win this…to finally see them win a championship.”
“You don’t need to tell me. I know you’re a bigger Eagles fan than I’ll ever be, Adam. You deserve to run down Broad Street and cheer with other fans like you.”
“See, that’s just it,” he said in a more serious tone. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. My buddies at the office all had elaborate plans for how they would celebrate if they won, but I wanted no part of it. I knew if this actually happened…if the Eagles actually won…this is where I’d want to be.”
Darla’s heart skipped a beat. Adam had that look in his eye, the kind she saw when he wanted to get extra romantic with her. She hadn’t expected to see that tonight, even if the Eagles won. During football season, she’d always been content to let him cheer victor or mourn defeat in his own way. It was an unspoken rule, of sorts, that they stayed out of each other’s way when that happened.
However, there was something different about this and not just because the Eagles had won the Super Bowl. That same passion that Adam usually channeled into every Eagles game was now solely focused on her.
“Darla, I know I’m not the easiest guy to love. Hell, I’m not even the top 50,” he told her.
“Adam, I know you get worked up after Eagles games,” Darla said. “Are you really sure you want talk to me like this after the biggest game in Eagles history?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Adam said without hesitation. “We’ve been together for 13 years now. In that time, we’ve built a great life together…one that often revolves around rooting for the Eagles. I know I don’t say it enough and I doubt I’ll ever have the mind to say it again, but I’ve treasured every moment of that life…from the worst loses to this amazing win.”
Now, Darla’s hard raced even more than it had before the fumble. This couldn’t possibly be what it sounded like. She and Adam had already discussed it on more than one occasion. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They had made that relationship work for over a decade. She thought that was how it had to be. Darla had made peace with that long ago.
However, when she saw Adam get down on one knee, hold her hand in his, and look up at her as though she were the Lombardi Trophy, it began to sank in. A Super Bowl parade wouldn’t be the only celebration tonight.
“Darla Mason,” Adam said, “when we met 13 years ago, I was at the lowest possible point. The Eagles had just lost the Super Bowl. I had no job, too much student debt, and a bad history of dating women who couldn’t put up with me. You changed that. You came along when I was at my lowest, stuck with me when you could’ve walked away, and loved me more than I ever deserved.”
“Adam…you’re making me feel like the Super Bowl MVP, here,” Darla said, her heart ready to burst.
“Now, here we are…13 years later, watching the same Philadelphia Eagles beat the New England Patriots. We’ve gone from one devastating lost to the most exhilarating victory possible. I say, let’s make it our own personal dynasty! Merry me, Darla. Merry me and let’s fly together like a couple of Eagles!”
Darla didn’t think it was possible for something to sound so corny, yet so heartfelt. Adam had to have rehearsed it ways for weeks on end, possibly since the Eagles clinched a playoff spot. The Eagles win the Super Bowl. He proposes to her. Given how they came together after they lost 13 years ago, it seemed so fitting. That made her response just as obvious.
“Yes!” Darla said eagerly. “Yes, Adam…I will marry you.”
“God, I love you, Darla.”
“I love you too, my future husband. Now, shut up and kiss me like a champion!”
Adam didn’t need a trophy or a call from the President to heed her desire. He shot up from the floor, threw his arms around her, and embraced her passionately as they came together in a deep kiss.
It still took a moment to sink in, both the Eagles being Super Bowl champions and her being engaged now. It was a hell of a feeling, a bigger rush than anything she’d felt before in her life. The sound of rowdy Eagles fans cheering outside could be heard. She imagined there would be a hell of a party down Broad Street for the rest of the night. They could enjoy that party. She intended to have one of her own with Adam.
As they kissed and hugged, the sound and images of the Eagles’ victory playing out on the TV, Darla felt those same passions that she and Adam channeled so strongly take a new form. They were champions. They were engaged. They were in love. With so much excitement and elation surrounding them, there was only one other way this night could be more perfect.
“Adam,” Darla said breathlessly as their lips briefly parted.
“Yes, my future wife?” he said playfully.
“Do me,” she told him. “Right here…in the living room…with the Eagles accepting the Lombardi trophy!”
Adam’s reaction to those intense, seductive words were priceless. Still awash in the thrill of victory, he had the look of a man who could slay a dragon for his woman. It was more than enough to set the tone for how they would celebrate their team’s victory.
“Darla, if you could be any sexier without wearing an Eagles cheerleader costume,” he told her.
“You want me to go find a costume? Or do you want to get naked right now and make love like a champion?”
“Well, I was going to call my folks and share the news first, but…”
His words trailed off as his desires took over. He kissed her again, this time with the passion of a champion. Darla kissed back, eager to match that same championship-caliber energy. For such a powerful moment that had been 13 years in the making, nothing less was acceptable.
Like a couple of pros, they went to work undressing each other. Adam pulled her favorite Eagles sweatshirt up over her head while she undid his jeans. Then, in a show of strength that would’ve impressed any starting offensive lineman, he lifted her up in his arms and laid her down on the couch.
Shortly after she fell atop the soft cushions, he took off his pants and underwear, followed quickly by his shirt. Whether by the thrill of victory or the passion of having proposed to his lover, he already bore a rock-hard erection. He looked so strong and powerful under the glow of an Eagles’ victory. It was enough to make Darla wetter than she’d been since her prom night.
“Off! Get my panties…off,” she urged him.
Her lover gladly obliged her, grabbing them by the side and sliding them off her shapely legs. She even undid her bra in the process, allowing her breasts to pop free. The sight of her naked body with the image of Eagles players kissing the Lombardi Trophy in the background sent Adam into a passionate frenzy that Darla eagerly embraced.
“Darla…my MVP,” Adam said to her.
Joining her on the couch, her new fiancé got on top of her. She eagerly spread her legs, allowing him to position herself over her while still having a nice view of the Eagles celebrating their championship. Holding onto her thighs and focusing that special passion of his solely on her, Adam thrust his hips forward and entered her.
“Ooh Adam!” Darla cried out.
Already, she felt like an MVP. His manly flesh filled her womanly depth, sending a surge of sensation up through her core. Almost immediately, Adam began working his body against hers, making love to her with a fervor unlike anything she’d experience in the 13 years they’d been together.
With each movement, he rocked her world, letting out deep grunts that doubled as sounds of victory. He held onto her thighs, holding them apart, which allowed him to penetrate deep with every thrust. Darla moaned with delight at every sensation, reaching up and caressing her lover’s face. She kept beckoning him with her gaze, urging him to make love to. Like star quarterback in the clutch, he delivered.
“Oh yes! Oohhh yes!” Darla gasped. “Adam…my champion.”
“Darla…my love,” he said.
Her world kept rocking as their naked bodies moved and gyrated together in the ultimate victory dance, evoking a potent combination of pleasure and triumph. At one point, Darla pulled him down closer so they could kiss as they made love. It added extra intimacy along with the euphoria of victory.
It proved to be a perfect combination, victory and love. She and Adam, energized by their team’s first championship, tested the stability of their eight-year-old couch. They made love with the kind of vigor and passion that only champions could muster.
One moment, he had her bent over the edge, thrusting into her from behind so she could see the Commissioner present the Lombardi Trophy to Eagles owner, Jeffrey Lurie. The next, she had him pinned on his back, riding his cock as the players sang the Eagles fight song play while accepting their congratulations. Somewhere along the way, she had an orgasm. In fact, she ended up having several.
That rush of pleasure, alongside the thrill of being engaged and being an Eagles fan on this night, made it extra special. It was a feeling she made sure she shared with her lover, making sure he got more than his share of the pleasure when he achieved his own climax.
“Darla…I’m close,” he told her.
“Then, go on, my love. Fly with me with me…like an Eagle,” Darla said, mirroring his own passionate words.
When it finally happened, she made it a point to embrace him passionately, tying her love with the heat of ecstasy. Those same cheers he let out when the game ended turned to cries of ecstasy. It helped cap off a truly remarkable celebration for a very memorable Super Bowl Sunday, one that Darla wouldn’t soon forget.
Their championship lovemaking complete, Darla settled into her lover’s arms. They remained naked, still indulging in the blissful afterglow of both passion and victory. Other fans might cheer. Others might loudly proclaim that this was the best night in the history of Philadelphia. However, only Darla and her lover could claim to know the true bliss of soaring like eagles.
Filed under Sexy Short Story, sexy stories
Ode To Tomboys And How One Made Me A Better Person
I try not to get personal on this site too often. When I do, though, I try to make an important point that others can learn from. That’s not easy, since everyone’s personal experiences are different. When one of those stories resonates, though, it’s a beautiful thing.
With that beauty in mind, I’d like to take a moment to appreciate a certain female persona that tends to evoke mixed emotions in people. For me, though, that persona has a special place in my heart because certain women have influenced me in a major way. That persona, in this case, is that of the female tomboy.
I know the stereotypical tomboy isn’t known for her sex appeal. She doesn’t come off like the kind of person who would inspire an aspiring erotica/romance writer. However, I think the appeal of a tomboy goes far beyond how little she has in common with the cast of “Mean Girls.”
I’m guessing that most people knew someone growing up who fit the mold of a tomboy. She was a girl, but she didn’t have “girly” interest. She liked sports. She liked cars. She liked to hang out with boys, didn’t care for makeup, and didn’t mind getting her nails dirty. Whether she was a friend, relative, or classmate, she probably stood out more than most.
There’s all sorts of social and psychological insights into what makes a girl a tomboy. I don’t want to get too much into that. For this, I want to keep things personal. I want to tell a short story about how a very special tomboy influenced me in a positive way, one that I still feel to this day.
Out of respect for her privacy, as well as the fact that I haven’t kept in touch with her, I won’t use her real name. From here on out, I’m just going to call her Carly. If, by some remote chance she ever reads this, she’ll probably recognize the importance of that name. She may even recognize me. I hope that happens because I don’t think she knows what a profound impact she had on me.
I knew Carly from grade school. We met when we were in the third grade and we shared the same classes until grade six. That’s a pretty critical time because we were both still kids, but were on the edge of puberty. While I don’t think it played too great a role at the time, I think it influenced the context of our friendship and our connection.
What made Carly stand out, even for a kid like me, was the fact that she didn’t look like the kind of hardcore tomboy you’d imagine after seeing “Little Giants.” If you randomly met her in public, you wouldn’t know she was a tomboy, but you would probably expect it. While she did look feminine, she never wore dresses, skirts, or makeup.
If you spent any amount of time with her, you learned quickly that Carly wasn’t a typical girl. She didn’t conduct herself like the other girls I knew. Whenever we did group projects, she worked with boys. Whenever we had lunch at the cafeteria, she sat with the boys. It wasn’t that she hated other girls. She just preferred being around boys, myself included.
I didn’t think too much of that until I saw her doing more than just being around boys. What made Carly special was how she went out of her way to match other boys in terms of skill, grit, and strength. While the other girls hung out on the playground, Carly was playing basketball and football. While those same girls talked about boy bands, she talked about who won on Monday Night Football.
I remember multiple instances where the boys got together to play touch football and she would be the only girl who wanted to play. We let her too. None of the other boys joked about it. There was this unspoken rule that Carly was one of the guys. She proved that she belonged. Anyone who gave her crap about it was not welcome.
Keep in mind, these are pre-teen boys who still think cooties are a thing. These are boys whose maturity level is limited by the amount of cartoons they watched that same morning. The fact that none of them gave Carly a second look, nor did they question her ability, says as much about them as it does about her.
More than any other girl, at that time, Carly fascinated me. I watched as she ran alongside other boys during gym class, playing sports like football and baseball better than some of the other boys I knew. Being so young, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I just knew I had to go out of my way to hang out with her and be friends with her.
While I won’t say we were close friends, we did know each other. We recognized each other outside of class. That eventually culminated in a moment that would both solidify Carly’s place in my memory and inspire me in ways I didn’t appreciate until later in life. That moment occurred when I was in little league one year.
From the time I was in first grade until the time I went to middle school, I played little league baseball. I loved baseball as a kid and it was the only sport I ever felt passionate enough about to play seriously. In all those years of playing little league, I played with a lot of other boys, some more memorable than others. However, through those same years, only one girl ever dared to play little league with boys and that was Carly.
I still remember the day when I saw her run out onto the field, a dirty old hat and a new baseball glove in hand. I had no idea she would be on my team, but when I saw her, I remember smiling. I even watched as she fielded pop flies and practiced batting with the coach. While I wouldn’t say she was our best player, she held her own. She could throw, run, hit, and catch. She wasn’t just a tomboy. She was an athlete.
In later years, that memory has taken on far greater meaning. Remember, I was a kid at the time. I was still at an age where girls might as well have been another species. Since pre-school, boys hung out with boys. Girls hung out with girls. We didn’t question it. We just separated ourselves, as though it had been ordained.
Carly showed that those unwritten rules weren’t really rules. She showed that girls didn’t have to be that different. Girls could still like boyish things. They could also be tough, play sports, and relate to boys just as well as they did with girls. Carly embodied that spirit better than anyone I’d known before or since. She was like a kid version of Rhonda Rousey.
That may not sound like much on the surface, but I can’t overstate the importance of that influence. The fact that I knew a girl who could so comfortably embrace boyish things made me question whether the divide between genders really mattered that much. The older I got, the more I realized how arbitrary that divide truly was. Carly was living proof of that.
It was because of Carly that I began interacting more with girls. This did make me a bit weird in the eyes of other boys. I started seeking out female company before it was considered cool for a kid. I like to think that gave me a head start on puberty in that it prepared me to appreciate female company better than most.
It’s also through my interactions with Carly that I stopped trying to talk to girls as though they were so radically different. In doing so, I realized that girls can talk about things like sports, cartoons, and even comics. While these girls might not have been tomboys like Carly, we were capable of sharing the same interests.
Conversely, it showed me that boys can share girls’ interests as well. To me, that was a big deal because it’s through dealing with girls that I developed a fondness for romance. Whereas boys may look at movie, comic, or TV show and appreciate the action, I often found myself appreciating the romantic sub-plots. I don’t think I would’ve had the mind to appreciate those things without Carly.
For that, I’ll always be grateful to her. At the same time, I regret not being a closer friend with her or keeping in touch with her. In my defense, we ended up going to different middle schools so we never got a chance. I would still love to know what came of her. She struck me as the kind of girl who would go far in life.
I don’t know if she outgrew her tomboy persona, as many girls do. Even if she did, Carly’s influence on me was a turning point. I may have been a kid when I knew her, but she inspired in me the kinds of ideas that shaped me into the man I am today. I like to think I’m a better overall person because of it.
Dealing with Carly helped me interact better with girls and people who were different from me, in general. Carly also proved to me that girls and boys weren’t so different after all. We could relate to one another, work together, and grow together. As a kid, that’s a radical concept. As an adult, that’s an important life lesson that helps men and women alike appreciate each other.
Filed under gender issues, Jack Fisher's Insights, sexuality
Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Super Bowl LII Edition
The wait is finally over. Today is the day. Super Bowl LII, also known as beer and buffalo wing appreciation day, has finally arrived. It’s the New England Patriots and the Philadelphia Eagles. If you’re a football fan, you don’t need much to get excited about today.
I’m not going to lie. Neither team playing is my favorite team. In fact, I actively rooted against these teams at multiple points during the regular season and the playoffs. It’s not just because I didn’t pick either team to make it this far. I have my own team loyalties that I take almost as seriously as my sexy stories. This Super Bowl doesn’t change that.
Never-the-less, I’m still a big football fan. I love watching football and I love watching big games with high stakes. You can’t get much bigger than the Super Bowl. Between the stakes, the commercials, and the halftime show, it’s a wonderful spectacle that I enjoy every year. Plus, I can never have too many excuses to drink beer and eat buffalo wings.
Whether you’re a Patriots fan, an Eagles fan, or despise both teams, the Super Bowl is the alpha and omega of all things football. I intend to enjoy it. I also have some Sexy Sunday Thoughts that I hope will make the wait easier between now and the opening kickoff.
“Exercises that mimic humping send mixed signals, but health benefits go beyond muscle tone.”
“The fact that celibacy is treated as a virtue while anorexia is treated as a disease highlights the breadth of our sexual hang-ups.”
“Does the pain of childbirth and the pleasure of orgasms require that all women be masochistic on some levels?”
“It’s physically impossible to tell a tragic story that ends in two people giving each other oral sex.”
“Too many sitcoms give the impression that our neighbors are hot, single, and eager to bone.”
“Afterglow is the sexual equivalent of a post-credits scene for a movie in that it can preview a sequel or add something extra to the experience.”
“If sex is like chocolate, then foreplay is like the hot melted fudge.”
I hope this gets everyone excited for the big game, among other things. Regardless of who wins, the Super Bowl is a major cultural event. Even if you just watch it for the commercials , it’s an event worth appreciating. It’s the culmination of America’s favorite sport. Let’s enjoy it for what it is and spend every other day of the year angrily envying Tom Brady.
Filed under Sexy Sunday Thoughts
“Keeping You Warm” Another Sexy Short Story
The following is another sexy short story I wrote entitled, “Keeping You Warm.” It’s a story I wrote over the course of a bitter cold day where nobody was feeling very sexy. I hope this helps warm everybody up and gets them through the winter. Enjoy!
“Hurry! Get another piece of wood,” said Maria, still shivering under several layers of clothes and blankets.
“Calm down, sweetheart. The fire’s still going strong,” David assured her. “We don’t know how long this blackout will continue so we need to conserve our wood.”
“Says the guy who wears a tank top outside when he gets the paper.”
“Who also happens to be the same guy who survived four days camping in a blizzard when he was nine,” he retorted. “Trust me, Maria. I know how to handle this.”
His words seemed to have little impact. Maria, his girlfriend of the past nine months, kept shivering and hugging herself as though she’d been trapped in the middle of the arctic. He did what he could to keep her warm, giving her the bulk of the blankets and letting her sit directly in front of the fireplace. That didn’t seem to be enough, though. David began worrying more about her than the duration of the blackout.
It had already derailed his plans for a romantic evening with his lover. Three hours ago, Maria returned from an extra-long shift at the hospital downtown where she worked as a pharmacist. He’d been waiting for her, ready to fire up the oven to cook her some salmon with a side of sweet potatoes. It was her favorite meal, one he’d hoped would make for a romantic Friday evening.
He knew that a storm was rolling in, but didn’t think much of it. Having grown up in Minnesota and endured more than his share of blizzards, he was better-equipped than most. Then, before he could even turn the oven on, the power went out and their romantic evening fell apart.
He could tell Maria wasn’t in a very romantic mood. Having spent all her life in South Florida, she was not used to this kind of cold. The fact she wore so many layers just to drive to work showed that. This marked the first major blizzard she’d endured and so far, she wasn’t handling it well.
“My God! How does anyone live through this shit?” Maria groaned. “I knew I would have to adjust when I transferred here last spring, but not like this!”
“You get used to it,” David told her while hugging her a little closer.
“Not soon enough for a Florida girl,” she said. “Hell, I didn’t even see snow for the first time until I was 22-years-old.”
“I admit the novelty wears off quickly, but eventually, you harden to it. You even come to appreciate it.”
“No offense to your home town in Connecticut, but I’d rather be wearing my bikini on South Beach right about now.”
“None taken,” he said. “If it helps, I’ll go get your bikini out of the closet and we can pretend we’re on South Beach.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Dave, but I’d rather focus on surviving. There’s only so much I can pretend in this kind of cold.”
She rubbed her hands together and shivered again. She almost sounded panicked, as though the storm and the blackout would never end. David wasn’t sure what more he could do for his lover. It was not a pleasant feeling, knowing that she was so uncomfortable and distressed.
He kept trying to warm her up, hugging her closely and occasionally stoking the fire in the fireplace that he’d kept going for several hours. It was an unfamiliar situation for the both of them and not just with respect to the weather.
David knew he was in for a challenge when he met Maria. They weren’t just from different parts of the country. They were from different walks of life. Her family was pretty affluent, growing up in the best neighborhoods in South Florida and never having to worry about snow or want. He and his family were a bit more modest, working blue-collar jobs construction sites and often braving the winter cold along the way.
He’d been the first in his family to go to college, but still worked outdoors a lot as an industrial engineer. When he met Maria through an old roommate of his last spring, there was almost instant chemistry. She fascinated him and she was drawn to his rugged, hard-working persona. If anything, their differences drew them together.
It helped their relationship progress quickly. They went from going on dates and swapping flirty texts to making love during their lunch breaks pretty quickly. He was willing to say he was falling in love with her. They hadn’t moved in together yet, but she frequently visited the townhouse he’d bought from his uncle because it was on her way home. Since they worked similar hours, he always tried to be prepared for her.
However, David hadn’t prepared for a situation like this. Having only been together for six months, it marked the first instance where everything they’d planned went to shit. Being snowed in with no power for who knew how long, it was kind of sobering having endure such a stressful situation together.
“I’m sorry, Maria,” he said to her while gazing at the fire. “Believe me when I say this is not how I wanted to spend this evening.”
“I believe you, David. And don’t apologize,” Maria told him. “I should be the one saying I’m sorry. I’ve been a pain in the ass since the power went out.”
“I want to say you don’t have to apologize either, but I suck at lying to you, so I won’t try.”
“I appreciate that,” she said dryly. “I just…I hate feeling this whiny. When I was eight and a hurricane ran through my neighborhood, we didn’t have power for three days. I remember my little brother complaining every goddamn hour, but I stayed strong. I even helped my dad clean up the yard.”
“To be fair, you can do that in a bikini too.”
“That’s not the point. What bugs me is I’ve been in tough situations before, be they blackouts, disasters, or meningitis outbreak at the hospital. I’ve always found a way to endure, adapt, and be strong. But now…in this storm and with all this cold…I feel so pathetic.”
“Why? There’s only so much you can do in a blizzard-induced blackout.”
“I know, damn it! I just feel like I’m better than this…especially when I’m with the man I love.”
David’s heart skipped a beat. For a brief instant, he forgot about the cold or the storm and looked over at his shivering lover. While Maria had told him she loved him before, it was almost always in a flirtatious, playful sort of way. This was the first time it sounded genuinely serious…that she really loved him, even in such unpleasant circumstances.
He wasn’t sure if she understood the gravity of what she’d just said. For all he knew, that was a serious symptom of the cold messing with her mind. Looking at her, though, his gut told him she meant it. That meant, for him, that he needed to do more.
With renewed focus, David came up with a new plan to show Maria just how much he loved her. Just cooking her a good meal on a Friday night wasn’t enough. Even in a darkened townhouse in the middle of a blizzard with only a finite supply of firewood, he needed to make a bold gesture. As he held his lover closer, a new plan came into place.
“You are better, Maria. You’re better than any woman I know,” he told her.
“That’s sweet of you, David,” she told him, “but that doesn’t make me any less pathetic.”
“Don’t mistake frustration for helplessness. They’re not the same thing, no matter the situation. Helpless means you’re out of options and there’s nothing more you can do. Frustration means you just need to try a bit harder than you wish you did.”
“The power is still out, the heater isn’t working, and we’ve already eaten most of what we can’t zap in a microwave. How are we not helpless?”
“Because there’s one option we haven’t tried…one I didn’t think would be appropriate, given the circumstances.”
“Oh?” Maria said curiously. “Which one is that?”
David gave her a confident, yet suggestive grin. It was usually the look he gave her when he had something surprising or enticing for her. That sort of thing usually required elaborate planning on his part. This time, however, he intended to wing it.
Without saying a word, he briefly let go of her and got up to retrieve another piece of firewood from the rack that sat next to their fireplace. He made sure to pick up a big one that would burn longer without much stoking. He needed that time for reasons that would soon become obvious to his lover.
Upon putting it on the fire and letting it burn for a moment, he turned around to face his lover. Then, in what must have seen foolish for their current situation, he stripped down to his underwear.
“David,” Maria said, confused yet intrigued, “as much as I enjoy watching you show off those manly muscles of yours, I’m still inclined to point out the danger here.”
“I know. I’m willing to risk it,” he told her, standing proudly before her in nothing but a pair of black boxers. “That’s what a man does for the woman he loves.”
Those fateful words had an impact. He saw it in her gaze. He tried to match her tone, showing that he was serious. He really did love her, so much so that he was willing to brave the cold for her. If the way her eyes were raking down his half-naked body were any indication, she got the message loud and clear.
“Stop me if my timing is off or if my idea is stupid,” he continued.
“From where I’m sitting, it’s looking less stupid by the second,” Maria said curtly.
“Then, I don’t have to be too crude when I tell you there’s a more effective way to keep you warm, Maria…a way that should show you that your worth braving any storm. Whether it’s hot, cold, snowy, or dark…I’ll be there to keep you warm.”
David spoke with more determination than he’d ever felt in his adult life. With the cold air blowing through his blacked out townhouse, he knelt down and crawled into his girlfriend’s grasp. In a gesture that showed how much she wanted his warmth, she opened up the blankets she’d clung to so desperately and welcomed him into her embrace.
Then, with only the glowing light of the fire illuminating their surroundings, he kissed her passionately on the lips, allowing the heat from his body to mix with hers. Even though she still had on multiple layers of clothing, that heat carried more meaning than that of the fire. From that meaning, David’s gesture evolved into something greater.
“David…so warm,” Maria gasped.
“I can make you warmer,” he claimed.
“I believe you,” she said. “Tell me, though…does it involve me taking off my clothes?”
“Well, if you want to maximize the effects…”
David didn’t even get to finish. He didn’t have to because Maria was already eagerly removing the multiple layers of clothes that she’d so urgently put on after the power went out. He even helped her, pulling her sweater off over her head while she got out of her sweatpants.
They remained under the blankets so it was a bit clumsy and chaotic. At one point, her undershirt got stuck and he needed to help her get it off. They ended up laughing, fumbling under the blankets until she was down to her panties. As soon as her flesh was exposed, David made it a point to take her in his embrace, his skin making contact with hers. From that touch, a special kind of warmth emerged.
“Oh David,” she purred, her hands eagerly clinging to his flesh.
He grinned at her touch, already feeling her ample breasts pressing up against his chest. He’d always enjoyed that sensation, her smooth womanly flesh pressing up against his. They’d never had this much incentive to feel each other so closely. David went to work making the most of it.
Laying her down on the carpet, the roaring fire only a few feet away, he covered their naked bodies in the thick blankets they’d borrowed from their bed. He then proceeded to kiss her again. This time, he threw in some extra touching, feeling up her womanly body and building up extra heat along the way.
He put extra passion and energy into his touching, from the way he caressed her face to the way he fondled her breasts. Maria had always enjoyed that kind of foreplay, so focused and intimate. The fact it generated real warmth was just a nice bonus.
That warmth quickly escalated, though, so much so that mere touching and kissing wasn’t enough. As David caressed his lover under the blankets, he felt a growing erection in his boxers. Given how cold it was, he hadn’t expected his efforts to be that effective. He didn’t ignore the opportunity either, letting his hardened bulge press against his lover’s inner thigh.
“Ooh! Is that another one of those effects, I’m feeling?” Maria said coyly.
“That depends,” David quipped playfully. “What would you say if I said yes?”
“I would say these panties can’t come off fast enough!”
That was all the affirmation David needed to hear. With a confident grin and burning determination, he shed his boxers and helped Maria out of her panties.
Now fully naked under the thick blankets, he renewed their passionate touching. This time, there were no obstructions. It was just her flesh and his, uncovered and exposed…relying only on one another for warmth. Something about that felt so fitting, not to mention arousing.
As their flesh touched and exchanged warmth, David felt his lover’s arousal match his. The warmth from her body became a full-fledged heat, especially between her legs. Drawn to that heat like any sane man would in such cold, he positioned herself between Maria’s lets. Again, she eagerly embraced him. Within that embrace, he entered her.
“Ohhh David!” she gasped.
“Maria…” he gasped, descending into a passionate daze.
At that moment, the act of keeping his girlfriend warm transformed into making love to her. Their bodies now entwined, David kissed her again. They began moving together, hard manly flesh meshing with hot womanly depths. It wasn’t the kind of sex they often enjoyed in their more playful moments. This was an act of passion, which just happened to conjure some much-needed warmth.
Fueled by that warmth and the passion that drove it, David made love to his girlfriend with the mindset that he was doing more than just proving his sincerity. He was keeping her warm, protecting her from the unforgiving cold. There couldn’t have been a greater incentive for a man to love his girlfriend in all the ways she deserved.
He took is time, maintaining a steady, yet passionate rhythm. Under the covers, his body shifted in accord with their shared desires, sharing deep kisses and fervent touching every step of the way. Such powerful efforts were so effective that David swore they worked up a sweat. That alone was an accomplishment, but hearing his lover moan in gleeful ecstasy was a far greater reward.
“David…I love you,” she said in the midst of such passion.
“I love you too,” he said to her without hesitation.
There was no ambiguity. Given the circumstances of their situation, it felt so real. If he and Maria could profess their love in the middle of a storm when all their elaborate plans had collapsed, then there could be no further doubt. He loved her and she loved him back.
He and Maria made love for as long as their desperate bodies allowed. On more than one occasions, he heard Maria cry out with that special euphoric moan, hinting that she had achieved that special peak. He shared in the ecstasy, eventually reaching his as well. By then, they were both fairly spent, having put so much energy and effort into creating the warmth that would protect them from the cold, among other things.
Even after the lovemaking stopped, they remained curled up in each other’s arms, sharing both warmth and passion. Maria wasn’t shivering anymore, even as the fire in the fireplace waned in intensity. That assured him that his efforts had worked. He had kept his lover warm, just as he’d promised.
He was content to lay naked with her under the blankets for the rest of the night, keeping each other warm until the sun rose. Then, after what must have been fate’s idea of a joke, the power came back on. While it came as a relief, it was still somewhat jarring and neither of them were ready for the moment to end.
“Hey David?” said Maria, still curled up next to him.
“Yes, darling?” he said with a loving grin.
“Mind turning the lights off while I put another log on the fire?”
“Way ahead of you!”
Filed under Sexy Short Story
Jack Fisher's Official Publishing Blog 