Tag Archives: Jack Fisher

February 26, 2017 · 10:09 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Non-Leap Year Edition

This is the time of year where having to wear sweatpants really starts to get to me. I’d like to make it clear that if and when I ever become a successful erotica/romance writer, I intend to retire in a tropical climate. If I’m going to live out my golden years in comfort, I’m going to live them in a place where I can walk around my house naked all year-round.

Yes, the end of winter is in sight. In my particular part of the country, it hasn’t been too bad. Hell, it’s been pretty damn nice compared to past years where I’ve had to shovel two feet of snow before breakfast. I don’t want to jinx it so I won’t let myself be too optimistic. I’ll just say that for me, shoveling lots of snow is right up there with dry-heaves and explosive diarrhea in terms of unsexy activities.

Whatever the case, and whatever some groundhog in Pennsylvania says, the end of winter is near. The time of bikinis, speedos, and more casual nudity is almost here. It still can’t get here fast enough, but I’m willing to be patient. I know that good thinks, like bikinis and casual nudity, are worth waiting for.

To help make the wait a bit more bearable for everyone, here’s another entry in my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” column. Whether you’re trying to stay warm in the winter or looking to stay cool in the summer, a little sexiness helps improve everyone’s mood. Like thong panties, they’re welcome in any season. Enjoy!

“About 75 percent of music is about looking for love. Around 20 percent of music is about getting over love. The other 5 percent is about actively enjoying it.”

I love music as much as the next guy who doesn’t get violently ill whenever Rebecca Black sings. However, I’ve noticed over the years that a lot of music tends to have the same themes. Either someone is trying to get laid, lamenting about how they’re not getting laid, or actively in the process of getting laid. Sometimes, it all happens within the same song.

I’m not saying these songs are bad. I’m just saying they could stand to mix it up every now and then. Aren’t there enough songs about breakups and finding love? Then again, Taylor Swift’s success probably answers that question.

“Tits are like pizza. They’re good in every form.”

Men can be extremely picky. I once roomed with a guy who always had to put four packets of sugar in his coffee, no more and no less. Anything else was considered heated toilet water. Those kinds of peculiarities are rampant among men.

However, when it comes to tits, we might as well be a bunch of hippies singing U2 songs. No matter what the shape, size, or color may be, men love tits. Like pizza, it’s a universally enjoyable thing.

“Penises are like beer. They’re an acquired taste, but they all function in a fairly similar manner.”

Now I’m not saying there’s a double standard here. Men will go to great lengths to see tits. They would sit through the longest, most god-awful movie of all time if it meant seeing Jessica Alba’s tits. With penises, it’s different though.

Women, and gay men by default, don’t go to those kinds of lengths just to see a penis. However, like certain kinds of alcohol, it’s possible to acquire a taste for it. Once you do, you become pretty damn loyal to that particular brand of penis. It’s a beautiful thing.

“A morning erection says a lot about how well a man slept, as well as what he dreamt about.”

Morning wood can be annoying at times. I can’t count how many awkward mornings I had in college when I woke up with a goddamn kickstand in my pants. However, I don’t deny that mornings that begin with an erection are usually preceded by a particularly restful sleep. In some respects, it’s my mind and body letting me know that I’m doing something right.

“If feminists are so serious about equality, then why aren’t they protesting the disparity between MILF and DILF porn?”

Let’s face it. There’s enough MILF porn on the internet to fill an entire Google server farm. It’s a pretty popular genre and why wouldn’t it be? It taps into the inner Oedipus in all men, seeing the inherent sexiness that comes from one who has brought life into this world.

So why, in the name of all things sexy, don’t men get the same appreciation? MILFs wouldn’t be MILFs without men. That’s just a biological fact. Feminists make such a big deal about equal representation in other industries. Why are they overlooking porn?

“If our genitals came with an app, we’d eventually find a way to break both.”

Maybe this is a fear over how future biotechnology may affect our genitals in the future, but given the way we abuse our smartphones, I shudder to think what would happen if our genitals were linked to it. Whether you’re a man or a woman, you’re equally capable of abusing your body parts as much as your devices. What will happen when we end up abusing both? It will be downright traumatic.

“True love is never having to apologize for an ill-timed fart.”

There are any number of signs to let you know you’re in love. Sometimes, the simplest ones are the most obvious. When we’re uncertain and afraid, we’ll try to control everything right down to the number of sweat beads on our head. However, when we are certain that we’ve found a lasting love, we’re okay with just letting our bodies do what they need to do. Again, it’s a beautiful thing.

That’s it for now. To those who miss casual nudity around the house as much as I do, just hang in there just a little bit longer. Our time is coming. The days of itchy sweatpants are numbered.

 

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February 21, 2017 · 6:15 am

First Promotional Materials For “Passion Relapse”

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Forgive me if my writing reads like something a chipmunk on crack. I’m still buzzing because of the news that my first published novel, “Passion Relapse,” now has a release date. This is really happening. In a couple months, I’ll be able to say with a straight face that I’m a published author.

Expect plenty of overly excited posts over the next few weeks. There will be times when I sound like a giddy cheerleader from a John Hughes movie. I won’t apologize for that either. I’m excited! I can’t help it, nor do I want to.

That said, I know that getting a book published and having that book be a success aren’t the same thing. At some point, I’m going to have to learn how to market myself. That’s something I know next to nothing about. Self-publishing doesn’t really give you much to work with. If you were to self-publish a novel, as I did, and sculpt dildos out of balsa wood, you’d get the same amount of guidance.

In the case of “Passion Relapse,” I have a publisher helping me. Totally Entwined Group is actually going to hold my hand as I enter this bold, new, sexy world. Again, I’m as excited as a squirrel in a nut factory. I look forward to working with them on this and, hopefully, future projects.

They’ve already started doing their part. Yesterday, they sent me a few promotional images. I’ll be adding them to my website as the release date draws near. For now, I’d like to share the first and most vital image.

Think of it as the first trailer to my novel. It doesn’t have bad rock music from the early 2000s or Tom Cruise running from random explosions, but it offers a brief, concise teaser of sorts for what this novel is about. If it helps, play some old Backstreet Boys songs to set the mood.

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This, my friends, is the first in what I hope to be many teases for “Passion Relapse.” Are you intrigued/excited/horny yet? Good! In just a couple of months, that feeling will pay off. I’ll make sure of it.

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February 20, 2017 · 8:29 am

Big Announcement: “Passion Relapse” Release Date!

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I’ve been waiting a while to make this announcement. I’ve been waiting like a 21-year-old man anticipating his first lap dance at a strip club. To say I’m giddy with excitement would be like saying kids are intrigued by chocolate fudge ice cream.

Last year, I announced that my book, “Passion Relapse,” had been picked up by a publisher. Then, a couple months ago, I announced that I had been working with the publisher on some major edits to the manuscript. It was a lot of hard work, requiring late nights and extra glasses of whiskey, but I got it done. Now, those efforts are about to bear fruit.

So with pride in my heart and a bulge in my pants, I’m ready to officially announce the release schedule for “Passion Relapse,” courtesy of Totally Entwined Group. Yes, this is happening. My first true published book is really happening. I wish I could show everyone the expression on my face as I type these words. It would make your day.

Earlier this week, I got confirmation of the release schedule, as well as the sexy cover art that I think worked out nicely. As of this moment, here’s how “Passion Relapse” will find its way to the masses and, hopefully, into the hearts and panties of many.

Pre-Order: March 7, 2017

Early Download (Digital Only): March 21, 2017

General Release (Digital and Paperback): April 18, 2017

Mark your calendars. Clear your schedule. If possible, arrange some intimate private time with your lover or significant other. This novel should get your hearts racing, among other body parts.

I’ve been in constant contact with the fine, dedicated, and undeniably sexy editorial staff at Totally Entwined. We’re ironing out a marketing plan that I hope to share on my blog both before and after the release date. I’ll be sure to announce those juicy details once they’re finalized.

Until then, stock up on clean panties and clear out your e-reader as best you can. “Passion Relapse” is coming and hopefully, we’ll all come along for the ride. Yes, I know that was some very suggestive word choice. Yes, I’m aware of the sexy connotations. No, I do not care and will not apologize.

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February 19, 2017 · 9:02 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Presidents Day Edition

In past years, President’s Day hasn’t been that big a deal. For the most part, it’s just another excuse for stores to have big sales and for government employees to have another day off work. I miss those days. They were good times.

Now, thanks to last year’s election, anything involving the President or the government is likely to spark a fist fight, Twitter war, or rampant Nazi accusations. I’ve no desire to get into those kinds of conflicts. I get enough of that debating comic books online.

With that in mind, I’d like to dedicate this edition of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” to those simpler times when the most controversy that came out of the White House involved interns, cigars, and ominous white stains. I know there’s a lot of tension in the world. I know there are hashtags, flame wars, and fake news that are enraging entire populations. I’d rather not add to any of it.

Now I’m still all for elevating the passions of others, but only the sexy kind. That’s what my weekly “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” posts are all about. So please, if only for a little while, take a break from lamenting over the endless rivers of political bullshit and enjoy these sexy insights from an aspiring erotica/romance writer.

“A weak man has to demand sex. A real man makes women want to give him sex.”

This is a lesson that all parents should teach their sons. At some point, he’s going to want to get laid. You can’t expect him to learn the particulars on his own, especially if you live in Texas. That’s why, for his sake and the women he beds, it’s important to teach him what it means to be a man.

That means earning his way into a woman’s panties, not demanding it. In my experience, and from what I’ve observed, there a lot of testosterone-laden asshats who think they have to demand sex to get it. A lot of them have rich parents, no sense of humor, and poor hygiene.

Those men rarely get as much sex as they want. For the real men, however, they find ways to make women eager, willing, and happy to enter his bed. That, my friends is the mark of a true man.

“It’s somewhat distressing that women’s criteria for a good husband isn’t very different from that of a butler. It’s even more distressing that a man’s criteria for a good wife isn’t that different from that of a mother.”

Think for a moment about the demanding criteria some women place on prospective spouses. They want someone who will provide, serve, and satisfy. How is that different from a butler? That list is uncomfortably short.

It’s even more uncomfortable when you look at the criteria men want in their wives. They want a woman who will cook, clean, and care for children. The lack of difference between wives and mother should be enough to make any man a little uncomfortable.

“Do those who’ve endured open-heart surgery find it offensive when others talk about the pain of heartbreak?”

People get offended by damn-near anything these days. You can’t even wear a Halloween costume without offending someone. I believe that within the next few years, even simple concepts like heartbreak will become subject to political correctness. An entire lobby of those who’ve had open-heart surgery will march on college campuses, protesting the concept. I’ll be sure to stock up on whiskey and barf bags on that day.

“Internet porn doesn’t corrupt minds. It just reveals how dirty our imaginations really are and how far we’re willing to go to make them reality.”

Some say that porn corrupts minds. I disagree. I think that’s putting the cart before the horse. Porn exists because people have sexy thoughts. It exists because people get horny and come up with elaborate ways to deal with that horniness. Porn is just one of those ways.

Say what you want about the sheer breadth of internet porn that’s out there. Say even more about the crazy kinds of fetish porn that’s out there as well. It all still pales in comparison to the collective imaginations of our dirty human minds. As an erotica/romance writer, I’m kind of proud of that.

“The fact that a lot of people sound like overtly-excited monkeys when they’re having sex should be proof enough of evolution.”

This is something I like to bring up around creationists. These are already some of the most stubborn, uptight douche-bags on the planet. They’ll never change their minds, no matter how much evidence you throw in their faces.

That’s why when it comes to the noises we make during sex, the pro-science crowd has the edge. Creationists can ignore the fossil record, geology, genetics, and pretty much every other branch of science. When the sounds of crazy fun monkey sex hits them, they can’t ignore it. Science wins on that alone.

“If a man has to ask why women find fire-fighters so sexy, then there’s a good chance he’s out of shape.”

I’m a man, but even I understand that women find fire fighters are sexy as hell. There’s a reason why so many male strippers dress up like fire fighters for their routines. Few things get women’s panties hotter.

For those men who don’t understand the appeal and/or refuse to, I’ve noticed they have a few things in common. Those things become painfully apparent when I ask them about their workout regiment and they give me a blank stare.

It’s not rocket science, guys. Men who take good care of themselves physically and go out of their way for others is really appealing to women. If you need that explained to you, then you’re just being difficult.

“Using certain shampoos and conditioners might as well count as foreplay for your hair.”

I don’t know what the hell happened to hair care products. As a kid, I just used shampoo and that was it. Now, in order to keep your hair full and shiny, you basically have to give it a massage and a happy ending.

I’ve seen woman and men spend a disturbing amount of time and money on their hair. Some people treat their hair as an extension of their genitals. As much as I support foreplay, I think this is taking it too far.

That’s it for now. Until next time, hail to the chief and enjoy the long weekend if you can. Let’s at least try to wait until Tuesday before we go back to being overly political about everything. For the sake of our sanity, let’s just enjoy this government-sanctioned holiday as best we can.

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February 13, 2017 · 6:15 am

A Personal Story The Day Before Valentine’s Day

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day. For spouses, lovers, mistresses, and fuck buddies, it’s almost time to begin a day of romance. There will be kissing, chocolate, love-making, and just plain fucking, although not necessarily in that order. It’s a beautiful thing. I don’t deny that. As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I have a strong appreciation for all the things that Valentine’s Day represents.

That said, it’s also my least favorite holiday and has been for a while now. I know I’m not alone either. Some have gone so far as to create an entirely new holiday called “Singles Awareness Day” to balance out all the annoying reminders that Valentine’s Day gives. It’s basically a weaker version of Festivus, minus the famous Seinfeld connotations.

Now I don’t take my disdain of Valentine’s Day quite that far. I don’t believe that creating one bullshit holiday to counter another is that productive. It also doesn’t change the underlying reasons why many people hate Valentine’s Day.

For many, Valentine’s Day is a harsh reminder that finding love is hard for a lot of people. Let’s face it. If you’re a pretty, young woman with big tits or a handsome young man with a fat wallet, finding love is easy. You can walk down the street in a thong and you’ll probably find someone to celebrate a holiday with. It’s just that easy.

For the rest of us, though, we don’t have that luxury. We’re at the mercy of our circumstances and some of us don’t handle those circumstances very well. In fact, we find ways to make them worse, even when we don’t have to.

In that spirit, as well as the spirit of those who would rather spend this Hallmark Holiday drunk, I’d like to share a little anecdote that should help explain why Valentine’s Day is so difficult for me.

I’ve gotten personal on this blog before. I’ve confessed to sleeping naked and shared a story about my first trip to Las Vegas. Those stories have some inherent sexiness to them. Unfortunately, there’s nothing sexy about this one. It’s mostly just somber recollection of a very lonely part of my life, long before I ever had an outlet in erotica/romance.

It happened when I was a teenager in high school, also known as my extended stay in Hell. I’ll probably say this many times on this blog, but it’s worth emphasizing. I hated high school. I was absolutely miserable. I wasn’t just a whiny, self-loathing teenager. I basically went out of my way to be miserable. It’s even more pathetic than it sounds.

This particular story highlights just how bad it got for me. It happened right around January of my freshman year, which also happened to be the year I developed a horrible acne problem that plagued me for most of my teenage life. So I was already feeling pretty bad about myself to begin with. However, being the miserable little fuck I was, I just had to make it worse.

During this time, we had a major snowstorm, which happens pretty often in my part of the country. We get at least two a year and this one was probably the biggest of the year. The whole neighborhood was a winter wonderland. It would’ve been so pretty if I weren’t such a miserable little shit.

In addition to the snow, it was colder than a snowman’s nut-sack in the morning. Given how early class started, I had to be out at the bus stop at around 6:30 a.m. Remember, this is the middle of winter. It’s still dark out and most of my body is still asleep.

Why is this relevant? Well, it matters because the bus stop I stood at was just across the street from my house. The neighbors were nice and our families got along. So when it was so damn cold and dark out, they would let me and the other kids stay indoors where it was warm. It was a good deal. The kids in my neighborhood were all very nice and friendly. I had no reason at all deny such a generous offer.

Then, I remembered that I was a miserable, self-loathing teenager who had the social skills of a brain-dead fish. Even when the weather was nice, I never talked to anyone. I never tried to strike up a conversation. I would literally spend an entire morning not saying a goddamn word to anybody. The most I did was stare at my shoes and daydream about not being in high school.

As a result, I didn’t take my neighbors up on their generosity. I just remained out there by the curb in the freezing cold, shivering to myself and finding more reasons to be miserable. All the while, the other kids at my bus stop stayed indoors and stayed warm. They probably even chatted, supporting one another in any way they could, knowing that high school always found new ways to make teenagers miserable.

I really could’ve used that support. I really could’ve used friends like that. I believe that if I had chosen to hang out with them while we waited for the bus, I probably would’ve been less miserable in addition to being warmer. They probably wouldn’t have said a word about my acne problem. They were teenagers, but most of them weren’t assholes.

Sadly, I just decided to stay miserable. I decided to keep to myself. For an entire week during the coldest time of the year, I stayed out at that bus stop, alone and miserable. I never said anything. I just stood there, endured the cold solitude, and waited for the bus. It’s as sad and pathetic as it sounds.

Why am I sharing this the day before Valentine’s Day? Well, I want to tell this story to help illustrate how bad I was at connecting with people. I had horrible social skills. I had no charisma whatsoever. It certainly didn’t help that I was exceedingly self-conscious, mostly due to my acne. It is a sad, pathetic feeling that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Now don’t get the wrong impression. This pathetic loneliness was my fault and mine alone. My family did damn near everything to support me in every possible way. They went out of their way to make me less miserable. I basically rejected them. I made the decision to be miserable. I wish I could unmake it because it still affects me to this day.

Looking back on those cold, lonely mornings, I feel as though I set myself back. I eventually did improve my social skills, but I was very behind the curve and still am to this day. It shows when I talk to new people and especially when I try to talk to women. I can handle myself a bit better, but I really did handicap myself for reasons that have never been justified.

So on the day before Valentine’s Day, I find myself remembering those cold mornings in high school again. I remember the loneliness and isolation that I imposed on myself during that time. I don’t doubt for a second that there are many others like me who share that feeling. Not all of them are in high school, but I imagine there’s never a shortage of miserable teenagers.

To those out there who do feel lonely, especially during this time of year, I would urge you to fight the urge to stay miserable. Fight the inner demons saying you deserve to be lonely. You’re better than that. You deserve to connect with others because guess what? They’re human, just like you. They seek connection as well. Look for it and you’ll find that you don’t have to be alone.

For this year, at least, I’ll probably be spending Valentine’s Day alone. The only companion I’ll have is named Jack Daniels. However, I refuse to remain in that cold, lonely place I put myself in all those years ago. I want to find love. I want to connect with people. Hopefully, my work as an erotica/romance writer will help me achieve this.

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February 12, 2017 · 9:44 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The (Anti) Valentine’s Day Edition

It’s almost here, that most holy of holidays among lovers, fuck buddies, and anyone who signed the necessary legal documents permitting them to have sex without a priest or mullah bitching about it. That’s right, it’s almost Valentine’s Day.

For an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it should be a good day for me. It should be one of those days where I shamelessly promote some of the sexy romance stories I’ve crafted. I mean why wouldn’t a seamy thriller like “Skin Deep” or a steamy romance like “The Escort and the Gigolo” not be appropriate for this most sappy of holidays?

Again, it should be one of those days for me. Sadly, it isn’t. In my experience, Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays that’ll either remind you that you’re lucky enough to have a lover or that you’re unlucky enough to be alone. From the looks of it, this year’s Valentine’s Day will be the former for me.

Yes, it does look like I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day alone again. My only companion will be named Jack Daniels it seems. At least I can say he’s always there for me in my time of need, among other things.

However, I refuse to let my current relationship status or lack thereof keep me from thinking about overtly sexy stuff. I wouldn’t be a very good erotica/romance writer if I weren’t. So in the spirit of Valentine’s Day, for both those who love it and those who hate it, I give you another version of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.”

If you have a lover, hopefully they get you in the mood. If you don’t, hopefully it gives you strength to endure this most annoying of holidays. Whether you’re content or miserable, a little sexiness goes a long ways.

Sex and love are two related concepts that work best when the line between the two is hopelessly blurred.

As much as I dislike Valentine’s Day, I am a romantic at heart. I’ve always had a deep affinity for romance. It’s a big reason why I strive to become a successful erotica/romance writer. I know it’s sappy, overplayed, and partially ruined thanks to Twilight, but I still love romance, especially the kind that mixes perfectly with a little sexiness. When put together, they make a damn potent combination.

The fact that we struggle to tell the difference between a horny teenager and a miserable teenager says a lot about why they struggle through high school.

If I’ve said it a billion times, I still haven’t said it enough. Being a teenager sucks. High school sucks. What makes it suck even more is that this is usually the time in our biological life cycle when we’re the most horny. I don’t care how cool you are or how good your grades our. If you’re really horny, you’re going to be miserable.

We’re so goddamn horny, but every PSA and after school special is urging us to never have sex or even think about it. Then, people wonder why teenagers are so miserable in a world of smart phones and bacon-wrapped shrimp. That’s what horniness does to immature minds. It’s just basic biology.

The day men and women achieve true equality is the day calling someone a slut becomes a term of endearment.

I’m not a fan of certain insults. I’m okay with calling someone an asshat or a shithead because they apply equally to both genders and send a clear message. Other insults like slut and whore just don’t work for me because that message isn’t clear.

Most men want women to have sex with us. Most men want them to be willing to get naked. So why create an insult that shames that? We’re not doing our genitals any favors. It’s just as much a problem when women use these insults. They act like wanting to fuck and enjoy toe-curling pleasure is a bad thing. Am I the only one who sees a flaw in that?

The day science perfects the bionic penis is the same day dildo makers start to panic.

Make no mistake, science is working on this and they have made progress. So long as men want to keep improving the function of their dicks, and they have since they first found out that theirs isn’t the biggest, they will pursue a technological enhancement. At some point, science will improve this part of our body, along with many others.

When that day comes, dildo makers will be in trouble. In fact, they may be the first to suffer. Why would women even settle for a lifeless hunk of plastic when there are men with efficient, robust cocks walking around? Be afraid, dildo makers. Be very afraid.

There are disturbingly few differences between politicians and prostitutes, but only one knows how to use their mouth with any skill.

There are any number of jokes we can make about politicians these days, especially after last year’s election. Many of these jokes are funny because they have an uncomfortable amount of truth to them. That’s why I find their similarities to prostitutes so hilarious, albeit in a tragic sort of way.

What sets prostitutes apart is their ability to use their mouths to screw people in ways they actually enjoy. In that respect, they’re far more respectable than almost every politician in the world. Is it any wonder why so many are eager to ban prostitution?

Ten talented fingers will never be a skilled as one experienced tongue.

I know. It’s another thought about sexy tongues. I have a lot of them. I don’t know why, but I’ve always found skilled tongues to be extra sexy. I know there are men and women who put a lot of effort into using their hands, as well as other parts of their body, to the utmost in pleasing a lover.

However, in my experience a tongue just has too much versatility in matters of love and sex. No fingers, or any other body part, can ever hope to match it.

Whoever invented body glitter was either tired of hiding their affairs or just wanted a creative way to brag about how much sex they get.

I really don’t understand the purpose of body glitter. I don’t even understand why it’s a thing. However, I’ve noticed that it’s usually popular with strippers. That indicates to me that there’s a connection that nobody wants to think too much about. Given how one of my books involves strippers, I guess I can’t help but think about it more than most.

Positive thinking doesn’t get you laid, but it keeps your genitals on standby.

Let’s face it. Our minds are way too easy to fool. What else explains the power of the Placebo Effect? As such, why wouldn’t it affect our sex lives in some profound way?

It’s often said that the brain is the most important sex organ in our bodies, or a close second at the very least. That’s why it makes sense to keep it positive and energized. Your genitals and your brain may be at odds sometimes, but they can help each other when the thoughts and situations are just right.

That’s it for now. On behalf of myself and all those who will likely spend Valentine’s Day alone, hang in there. Be strong. Be sexy in your own right. Love will come come and when it does, hopefully you will too.

Yes, that last line is every bit as dirty as you think it is.

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February 5, 2017 · 8:28 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Super Bowl Edition

Today’s the day. The most sacred of games to all sports fans. For some, it’s the alpha and omega of manly competition. For others, it’s just another excuse to drink beer and eat buffalo wings. It’s not exactly sexy, but it’s as big a deal as any holiday where gifts, decorations, and alcohol are involved.

That’s right, it’s Super Bowl Sunday. The Atlanta Falcons and the New England Patriots have fought, clawed, and (in the case of the Patriots) potentially cheated to get to this moment. They endured a rigorous regular season. They made it through the playoffs. Now, this is it. This is the end of the line. It’s the Super Bowl.

It’s a day that reduces many men to the maturity of an 7-year-old watching cartoons on a sugar rush. It’s also a day where some women basically lock their panties, hide the children, and wait out the storm. However, it’s the women bold enough to watch the game alongside the men that help make this day special. To those women, I tip my hat to you.

I’ll certainly be indulging my inner sports fanatic. I’ve got a case of beer, bags of chips, and enough to greasy food to clog my arteries until mid-March. I’m going to have a damn good time.

Before kickoff, though, and before the hangover that’s sure to follow, I’d like to share my Super Bowl edition of Sexy Sunday Thoughts. It may not get you in the mood for football, but it’ll get you in a mood. That much, I’m certain of.

Another term for friends with benefits is mutual orgasm exchange.

I’m at all not against the concept of “friends with benefits.” I’m okay with any and all efforts of any two people to freely and responsibly pursue the toe-curling pleasures of intimacy. That said, I think the label is overly coy.

Let’s not mince words or beat around the bush. Aspiring writers, even those who use colorful metaphors for female genitalia, don’t like that. A friend with benefits is partner in a transaction and the currency is orgasms. That’s a hell of a benefit for a hell of a friend.

Eating too much makes you fat, but having sex counts as exercise so it’s possible to balance things out if you’re willing to be that horny.

There’s an ongoing debate about just how many calories that sex burns. Much like food, it depends on the quality and quantity of the goods involved. Whatever the case, sex does get the heart going and that will burn calories. Those who have a hard time holding back at a buffet table may want to keep that in mind when contemplating how they’ll stay in shape. Let’s face it. A rigorous workout through sex beats going to the gym.

In a perfect world, good breath and good oral sex skills would be closely correlated.

We don’t live in a perfect world, I know. Being an aspiring erotica/romance writer, it’s only natural to contemplate just how amazing such a world would be. For a sexy mind like mine, that world means those generous enough to give oral sex are rewarded beyond the satisfaction of pleasing their partner.

I don’t know what good breath from oral sex might smell like. For men, maybe it’s a mix of rose petals and lavender. For women, maybe it’s a mix of mint, sea salt, and taffy. It’s sad we don’t live in a world where we can find out, but it’s still fun to contemplate.

Money can’t buy happiness directly. But since it can buy prostitutes and prostitutes give orgasms, then it’s logical to say it can buy happiness indirectly.

Prostitution is a controversial issue for men and women alike. It always has been. They don’t just call it the world’s oldest profession because it caters to one of the oldest demands, although that is a big part of it.

Controversy or not, at its core, prostitutes deliver a certain brand of direct happiness to their customers. It’s all for a price and, regardless of how costly it is or what act is involved, that transaction occurs out of a desire for that happiness. For those prostitutes who do their job and do their job well, they are proof that money can truly buy happiness.

Woman have had it rough over the years, but they’ll never know the agonizing strain of having to hide a boner during gym class in high school.

Women, I know you deal with a lot of issues. Some are so serious that you have to hold big marches to raise awareness. I’m not undercutting the importance of these struggles. They are worth fighting for.

That said, a woman will never know the struggle men face in hiding awkward erections. Talk to any man who survived high school. They’ll talk about having to conceal awkward boners as if they were war stories. It’s more harrowing than it sounds.

It’s not that some people just hate dancing. They just know that they dance in a way that makes everyone around them less horny.

I’m not a dancer. I’ve never been big on dancing unless I have a significant amount of alcohol in my system. I get criticism every now and then for my reluctance to dance. I think there are many men and women in the same boat as me who avoid it not because we’re bad at it. It just sends the wrong message to those we’re trying to impress. Bad dancing is right up there with projectile vomit in terms of things that kill the mood.

For a man, true love is never having to apologize to his partner when he cops a feel.

I’m a romantic at heart. That’s not just because I write erotica/romance either. A part of me purrs like a kitten in a yarn factory when I contemplate the beauty of true love. There are all sorts of magical elements to it. Being able to cop a feel is one of the more underrated aspects of love. I think it deserves more recognition. To those of you with lovers, I hope you make this part of your Valentine’s Day celebration.

Softcore porn is like cake with no icing. It’s still pretty damn good, but not as good as we wish it were.

There’s a near infinite variety of porn. Some involve bondage. Some involve elaborate costumes. Some involve clown makeup and will give most people nightmares for the rest of their lives. That variety, like the kinds of chocolate, are a big part of what makes life worth living.

Then, there’s softcore porn. Anyone who has ever stayed up late to watch Cinemax knows what I’m talking about. It has almost everything we want in porn, except the really tasty bits. Much like a cake, we’ll still eat it without the icing. We’ll even enjoy it. It’s just that we really want that icing.

There you have it. Hope that gets everyone in the mood. Enjoy the big game!

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January 29, 2017 · 7:45 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The Romantic Cabin Edition

It’s a tough week for a lot of men out there. This is the first weekend where we have no football to watch. For many, it’s the most agonizing time of the year. Christmas is over. Football is ending. This particular weekend basically begins the long, arduous wait until these things we love return.

In these dark times, it’s important that we support each other. It’s just as important that we turn to our lovers in our time of need. We should not run from their love, nor should we wallow in lonely despair. It’s already colder than a penguins ass outside. This is as good a time as any to cuddle up, embrace those we love, and console ourselves, at least until the NFL Draft.

As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I can only do so much. I probably haven’t helped by talking about such heavy topics as evil, villains, and Lawrence Phillips. Well, today is different.

Today, I’m bringing this sad, lonely world that now lacks Christmas decorations and football games another round of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” They won’t bring football or Christmas back any sooner, but I hope it offers some comfort, as well as a few dirty laughs. If it can also get you and your lover in the mood, then that’s just a nice bonus for everybody. Enjoy!

The male douche-bags of the world affect a lot of people, but the women who willingly have sex with douche-bags ensure that effect spreads across generations. So who is worse?

We all hate douche-bags. We all want to punch the rich kids of Instagram in the jaw. If there’s any force powerful enough to counter their shit, it’s the beautiful women they try to sleep with. Beautiful women are their kryptonite. So ladies, especially those with big tits, the power is in your hands. Fight the power of douche-bags. Don’t sleep with them anymore. You’ll change the world for the better.

Those who claim they favor quality over quantity must be inherently conflicted when it comes to orgasms.

Quality over quantity works in so many things. In many instances, it’s the hardest option available, but it’s the one most worth doing. When it comes to orgasms though, the whole quality vs. quantity debate takes on a whole new dimension. I don’t think men or women are equipped to make sense of it. Never-the-less, even if you try and fail, you never really lose in the long run.

Teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime. Teach a man to give good oral sex and he’ll never be alone for the duration of that lifetime.

There are some skills that are just gifts. I’m sure the Ron Jeremys of the world are aware of theirs. Some, however, can be learned. Oral sex is one of them. That is a skill that can bring people together in ways that transcend race, talent, and status. It is also a skill that can be learned. Learning that skill may not make you a saint, but it’ll make you a lot of close, loyal friends.

If sex has a smell and that smell comes out through sweat, then saunas must really confuse our noses and our genitals.

I’ve been in a sauna before. I’ve smelled sweaty naked bodies before, male and female. I’m not going to lie. My nose and my genitals don’t always agree. It’s not a conflict I’m equipped to deal with. It has no winners. So long as I have extra towels or a really lose bathing suit, I can manage it.

A young, attractive man whose poor still doesn’t have an advantage over an old, ugly man who is rich.

I’ve made this point before. I’ll keep making it because it needs to be belabored. There is no such thing as an unsexy rich man. Even if you have the body of a young Brad Pitt and the eyes of Ryan Gosling, being dirt poor ensures your options in ladies are peanuts compared to those of old, rich, ugly guys.

A lot of money goes a long ways towards moistening the loins of certain women. I concede that not all women are this way, but the population of those who are is probably much higher than we care to admit.

If men could really think with their dicks, then would getting a blowjob count as a mental exercise?

A penis can’t think. If it did, I’d have gotten straight-As through high school and college with ease. Men and women alike often claim we mistake our dicks for our brains. The erotica/romance writer in me likes to contemplate crazy sexy scenarios about what would happen if we could somehow bridge that gap. How much smarter would men be if blowjobs improved our thinking skills? It sure as hell would make school more fun.

If sex were a video game, the clitoris would be a cheat code that too many men are reluctant to use.

So long as I’m talking about dicks, I might as well be fair to the body parts of women as well. A dick is hard to hide. Any teenage boy with a boner during gym class knows that. A clitoris is a bit more subtle. However, once you know how to work it, this wondrous creation of nature is a shortcut to a woman’s ecstasy.

The sad part is that too many men either refuse to take this shortcut or don’t even know it’s there. It’s a frustrating problem, but a fixable one. I hope my contributions as an erotica/romance writer can help.

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January 23, 2017 · 6:23 am

Final (Hopefully) Edits Of “Passion Relapse” Submitted!

Got a quick, but exciting announcement to make. Late last week, I got an email from my publisher on the status of “Passion Relapse.” Apparently, things are moving quickly with this book. Nobody’s beating around the bush. Those involved seem eager to get to the foreplay and, as I’ve made clear in the past, I’m very much in favor of foreplay.

In the email I got, I also received what my editor said was the last round of edits. She had circulated my manuscript around multiple editors within the publisher. They each had their go at it, sifting through every word and giving it some added polish. Again, I’m totally in favor of this. More polish means more sex appeal and that’s how this book is going to succeed.

Then, I got a chance to go over it one last time and review the edits. From what I’ve been told, this is the home stretch. This is the final round. This is the two-minute warning in a football game. After this, the train can leave the station and “Passion Relapse” can get to work warming the hearts and panties of the masses.

Naturally, I gave this manuscript the utmost priority over the weekend. I basically ceased work on all my other projects so I could give this manuscript the energy it deserves. This is my first real novel that’s going to be published by an actual publisher. For an aspiring writer whose success at this point has been a handful of brief Amazon reviews, that’s a big deal.

Late last night, I finished. Then, I submitted it back to my editor, who verified that she got it and was ready to proceed with the next step. This being my first real novel, I’m not entirely sure what that step entails. I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to make any last-second changes or have any further input. At this point, I’m okay with that.

I’ve basically done all I can with “Passion Relapse.” The rest of this process is out of my hands. This is a whole different game compared to the self-publishing I’ve done with my other books. While I’m not expecting this book to be the kind of booming success that’ll put me on a first-name basis with Stephen King, I do hope it is a step. I’m sure it’s the first of many, but it’s a step I’m eager to take.

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January 22, 2017 · 8:46 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Inauguration Edition

It’s been another long week. It’s been more stressful for some than others for spectacularly obvious reasons. I know I haven’t made it easier by talking about such bleak topics like evil and the evil assholes throughout history that makes us wish we were dolphins. There’s still a lot to talk about with this issue, but I refuse to let this blog get too sullen.

No matter what I’m discussing, no matter how serious or disturbing, I’m going to find time to squeeze a little sexiness into the mix. What better way to do that than with my weekly “Sexy Sunday Thoughts” post?

There’s a lot of evil in this world that makes us want to throw a grenade into our gene pool. There’s also plenty of good that’s worth celebrating. Some of that good is sexy as hell. By now, everyone should know which kind I favor on this blog.

So for those who had a rough week and are dreading how the next four years will play out, I hope this offers a reprieve of sorts. We can’t change how certain events can play out. We can’t change the things that inspire evil in this world either. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the sexy side of things.

“The only real difference between bikinis and underwear is that you’re more likely to be arrested if you wear one out in public.”

I’m a big fan of bikinis. I’m a big fan of sexy female underwear. I’m not a fan of hypocrisy though. From a pure design perspective, a bikini and a pair of underwear are the same. For utterly circumstantial reasons, though, only one is socially acceptable in public.

“The purpose of lingerie is somewhat ironic in that women put it on to get men in the mood to take it off.”

I’m a big fan of lingerie too. I know from experience how lingerie can make for wonderfully intimate moments with a significant other. That said, I still think the actual use of lingerie is so ironic, albeit in a sexy sort of way.

“A good doctor knows the difference between careful examination and foreplay. A great doctor will make sure the patient forgets that difference.”

If the success of “Grey’s Anatomy” and “House” has shown me anything, it’s that doctors can be sexy as hell in the right situation. Sure, some of those situations can get ugly and tragic, but in others it can get pretty damn hot.

Think about it. A smart, educated, well-paid man or woman is feeling up the most intimate parts of your body and asking intimate questions. At some point, your brain and your genitals will get on the same page.

“A prostitute who’s not very good at her job still has more customers than a tax attorney who is.”

Prostitution is the world’s oldest profession for a reason and it’s a damn good reason. Even if you’re moderately attractive and don’t put much effort into it, you can still satisfy plenty of customers. Orgasms will do that. I’ve never met a tax attorney who can be that mediocre and still make customers happy.

“A well-groomed man is just code for a man who spends more than $50 on clothes and hair care products.”

Guys, let’s not lie to ourselves. Women don’t like a man who’s cheap and unkempt. Being well-groomed doesn’t just have to mean shaving your pubic hair for your anniversary once a year. It also means investing some actual resources into yourself. It may suck for your credit card bill, but I think many ladies would agree that it does pay off if you invest well.

“Flavored lube can be dangerous in that it may confuse being hungry with being horny.”

I’ve said it before many times on this blog and I’ll keep saying it so long as our kinky species keeps giving me good reasons. Our caveman brains are full of faulty wiring. Eating and humping are two basic imperatives that our brain dedicates considerable resources to. Anything that confuses them is like bringing a flame-thrower to a napalm factory.

“If communication is supposed to lead to better sex, then shouldn’t negotiators have the best sex lives?”

As “Taken” and it’s various sequels have shown, some occupations require a very particular set of skills. To be a negotiator, you kind of need communication skills to make that job work. At the same time, everyone says communication is key to a good relationship and a great sex life. If we follow that logic, negotiators should basically be rock stars.

“Why do butt-ugly rock star marries a gorgeous supermodel? It’s for the same reason a dog licks his own balls…because he can.”

There’s a reason whey men like Mick Jagger can have kids that are younger than his grandkids running around. For reasons that simply defy logic, rockstars are one of those occupations where sex is basically a buffet that never closes. It affords them opportunities that few ever get, but many would seek

That’s it for now. Hope this lightens the mood. Whether you’re good, evil, or just don’t give a damn, a little sexiness can make anyone’s day better.

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