Tag Archives: Jack Fisher

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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January 15, 2017 · 7:56 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Freedom Edition

Let’s not lie to ourselves. Freedom is sexy. There are many reasons to fight for it. The ability to wear a swimsuit that is indistinguishable from underwear is just one of them. The struggle for freedom is very real. It’s not exclusive to America either. This is a struggle generations upon generations have had in every era of human civilization. It’s likely that struggle will continue for generations to come.

For an aspiring erotica/romance writer, freedom is an important ingredient in crafting my stories. It tends to be much sexier when those involved freely come together, both romantically and sexually. There’s just something uniquely satisfying about two people freely ditching their clothes and celebrating their freedom in the sexiest way possible.

I’m lucky enough to live in a part of the world and in a time in history where I can enjoy a level of freedom that my ancestors would probably envy. It’s a beautiful thing and I’m grateful for it every day.

To show my gratitude, I’m here with another entry of my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” These are the kinds of thoughts that are best read while naked, drunk, or listening to polka-themed disco music. I don’t intend for them to spread the joys of freedom, but I sincerely hope it gives those who enjoy not wearing pants on a Sunday morning a moment to reflect on their love of freedom.

“If love were a real drug, we’d all overdose on it some of the time. If sex were a real drug, we’d all overdose on it most of the time.”

Let’s face it. We tend to abuse drugs, especially if they make us feel good. In that sense, love and sex definitely qualify. If Big Pharma could patent these drugs and charge half a mortgage for them, they’d do it in a heartbeat and we’d still pay. The fact that one is easier to abuse than the other and that one happens to involve nudity should make us grateful that somebody hasn’t put these feelings into a pill just yet.

“The extent to which we profess our love for each other is directly proportional to how foolish we’re willing to be.”

I’m not just referring to goofy teen movies here. People will go to crazy lengths to prove how much they love someone and not just by buying an overpriced shiny rock. Show me someone who shows up at someone’s door naked and covered in chocolate with a news crew and I’ll show you someone who’s willing to go the extra mile for their lover.

“A celebrity knows they’ve become a sex symbol when they can wear pajamas to an awards show and still get laid.”

This is just common sense. Hugh Jackman and Jennifer Lawrence could wear a trash bag and a powdered wig to the Oscars and she would still be sexier than 99 percent of the women on this planet.

“Foreplay is like eating the remaining cake batter in the bowl while the cake is cooking. Afterglow is like licking up what’s left of the frosting after you’ve eaten the cake.”

As a kid, I loved licking the bowl whenever my mom baked a cake. As an adult, I learned to apply my tastes to more intimate situations. I like to think the preparations for cake prepared me for those more intimate moments.

“Sweet talk and sexy talk aren’t the same thing, but in the right circumstances, one can indirectly lead to the other.”

When things get heated, we often say one thing leads to another, but don’t get into specifics. I’m of the opinion that we use kinder, less sexy words to set the mood and the sexier words just emerge naturally from that mood. It’s a beautiful thing.

“If it really does take 10,000 hours of practice to become good at something, then shouldn’t porn stars be certified sex therapists by default?”

When want to get our car fixed, we want to see a mechanic who has fixed a lot of cars. When we need major surgery, we want a surgeon who has conducted a lot of successful surgeries. By that logic, why don’t we consult porn stars more when we need advice on sex? It’s just logic.

“Isn’t it a little bit odd that the ass is the only sexy body part that we admire by slapping it?”

This has always confused me. We caress breasts. We stroke penises. We kiss and suck with our lips. Why do we slap asses to show our admiration? It’s something I think rappers and exotic dancers should think about.

That’s it for now. Now go out there and enjoy a free and sexy Sunday!

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January 11, 2017 · 7:00 am

Lessons From The First Round Of Revisions For “Passion Relapse”

I have my first major update of my pending novels for 2017. As I announced last year, one of my books, “Passion Relapse,” was accepted by a publisher. It’s an exciting development for me in my efforts to become a published writer. It also starts a much more arduous process that every aspiring writer must endure and that’s edits.

I knew this going in. It’s something that is destined to put a few dents in your ego, among other things. When you write a story, even one you put your heart and soul into, it’s going to be flawed. It’s going to need revisions. Some are extremely extensive revisions. Some take it as an affront to their work, as though anyone who dares to question its quality is no better than someone who hits them in the shin with a baseball bat.

When you’re trying to make a career of something, you can’t assume right off the back that you’re that good. With everything I write, no matter how much effort I put into it, I assume it’s mediocre at best and crap at worst. I accept that it needs revisions and polish. I’ve had to do a lot of that on my own, sometimes with help of an editor. With “Passion Relapse,” though, I have a more official process for revising my work.

Over the past weekend, I received the first round of edits for my manuscript. Keep in mind, this is a manuscript I already revised before, having rewritten the entire ending at the request of the publisher. The editor from the publisher already told me this is just the first round. That means I can expect this manuscript to undergo some pretty extensive revisions that are sure to reveal just how far I have to go.

The first round of edits certainly implied I had room for improvement. My editor revealed some rather unflattering tendencies I have in my writing, namely the kind you really can’t pick up on by yourself. No matter how good you think you are at something, you’re always going to be somewhat blind to your flaws. I’m certainly no exception.

With this first round of edits, I got a feel for the sheer breadth of my flaws. They’re definitely there. They definitely undermined the overall quality of the story. I still believe in the value of that story and so does the publisher. It’s the refinements that need work and I’m willing to work with my editor to complete those refinements.

However, in doing so, I’ve gained a greater understanding of the skills I need to improve for future novels. Make no mistake. I have many ideas for future novels. I’ve been holding off on a few because I want to learn something from this editing process to make future submissions easier. One skill, in particular, stands out among the others and it’s kind of an important skill for my genre.

I need to write better sex scenes.

I know. That sounds like a hell of an oversight for someone who identifies as an erotica/romance writer. Struggling with that is like being a horror writer, but not being able to write scenes that scare people. That’s a big freakin’ deal for me and I need to be better.

Specifically, my editor revealed that I’m a bit too analytical with my scenes. I spend too much time describing what’s actually happening and not enough on the actual emotions involved. That matters because one part is sexy and the other isn’t. People tend to get more turned on by what people do with their genitals than mere descriptions of said genitals.

I’ve also learned that I need to make sure the actions I describe are linked to the characters. What I mean by that is sometimes I tend to describe body parts or actions that have a mind of their own. There are times when that works, but most of the time it doesn’t. For the story I’m writing in “Passion Relapse,” it’s not really a scenario that applies.

While this is pretty striking for an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I’m glad someone pointed it out. That’s not to say I agree with everything my editor told me, but I do see plenty of merit in improving my craft. If it means my novels contain hotter, sexier content, then I’m willing to put in that extra work.

For now, I’m done with the first round of edits. I’m now waiting for the second round. I don’t entirely know what that entails yet, but I’ll be sure to provide updates as more details come in. I want to make “Passion Relapse” as great a book as possible. That means making it as sexy as possible. For that, I’m willing to do my part.

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January 9, 2017 · 5:59 am

Blog Upgrade Announcement

Just thought I’d make a quick announcement today, one that I hope bodes well for the future of this blog. Since I started posting regularly again last year, I’ve been contemplating its future and purpose. I’ve found that the more I write here, the more I want to write. It’s one of those brutal cycles that doesn’t destroy your liver or lungs.

With that in mind, I decided to invest a little more into making this blog more official and not something that a burned out college student works on in between exams. I’ve taken my own money, which is limited mind you, and purchased and upgraded plan from WordPress on this blog. In conjunction with this upgrade, I also got a free domain name to go with it.

This, I hope, will add more legitimacy to this blog, especially after my books “Embers of Eros” and “Passion Relapse” come out. If I’m going to be a real published author, it’s important that I present myself in a way that looks like I give a damn. Having a domain name and a more polished blog is just one of the ways I hope to do that.

As of now, my new web address for this blog is as follows:

https://www.jackfisherbooks.com

So please take the time to update your bookmarks and browsing history accordingly. This site will now be the new hub for me and my publishing efforts, be they book announcements or my “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.”

I also intend to keep upgrading this blog in whatever way I can. That may mean tweaking the design and format, but I still haven’t decided yet. Right now, I’m focusing more on the ongoing projects I have at the moment, as well as the one I intend to start next. I’m not short on sexy ideas for sexy stories so I expect to be busy throughout 2017. I hope having a more polished blog will help.

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January 8, 2017 · 8:41 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Playoff Edition

If you’re an American Football fan, then this is a wonderful time of you for you. It’s playoff time! That’s right, the NFL playoffs start today. This is one of those years where I don’t have a lot of teams I’m rooting for. I have quite a few teams I’m rooting against, but sometimes that’s the best you can do in sports.

I’ll definitely be enjoying my share of the NFL playoffs for this week and the next couple weeks. Watching football is a great excuse to just pop open some beers, gorge on chicken wings, and relax. You usually don’t need too many excuses for that, but it helps.

You’d think that contact sports involving a bunch of big, strong, sweaty men ramming into each other at full speed wouldn’t inspire sexy thoughts. Actually, I don’t know why anyone would think that. Anything that works up a sweat or raises the heart can send all sorts of sexy signals to your brain. For an erotica/romance writer, those signals are always welcome.

So I’d like to make use of them today with another edition of Jack Fisher’s “Sexy Sunday Thoughts.” Hope this helps get everyone in the mood for the NFL playoffs, among other things. I consider it a public service from an aspiring erotica/romance writer, if only to keep people warm during the cold winter.

“Having an attractive pool cleaning guy is the male equivalent of having a hot secretary.”

How many pornos and bad movies that only air after midnight on Cinemax use this scenario? It’s overplayed. It’s predictable. It’s even a little flat. Even so, it can still be fun. It can still be sexy. Sometimes you just gotta stick with what works.

“For the excessively homophobic crowd, eating a hotdog or a banana must cause some serious anxiety.”

I have little to no sympathy for those who champion homophobia. I stash their sentiment in the same pile of trash as those who claim that letting kids playing dodge ball counts as abuse. However, I do sometimes wonder how stressful it must be to hold such extreme, bigoted views on an empty stomach.

“Give men a tax break for the number of real orgasms they give their wives and the number of happy marriages will increase considerably.”

This is just one of those crazy ideas that comes to an aspiring erotica/romance writer while he’s lying in bed at night, contemplating ways to change the world. Powerful, politically connected men are all about tax breaks these days. Provide a little orgasmic incentive and that power can be put to good use.

“Every time you see a really nice table in someone couple’s home, assume someone has been bent over and fucked on it at least once.”

This is simple math and connection here. You eat your meals on a nice table. You put your best cloths and flatware on a nice table. Naturally, if you’ve got a lover, you’re going to put them on there too and fuck their brains out. Sometimes people are just too horny to make it to the bedroom.

“The color of your bed sheets can inadvertently reveal how messy or dull your sex life might be.”

This time, it’s basic physics and chemistry at work here. Certain bed sheets, especially those of a darker color, tend to reveal certain stains more than others. The presence or absence of those stains can say a lot about your sex life.

“Giving sex education to horny teenagers can only go so far. Giving them sexual training might actually help their love lives down the line and they might actually be eager to learn it.”

As a former horny teenager, this is something I can relate to. My teachers can tell me everything there is to know about how a penis and vagina work. I’m not going to know if I’m doing it right without a little guidance. I’m not saying that it’s wholly feasible in high school, but it would make everyone a lot more excited to go to school.

“From a pure numbers perspective, women’s vaginas have cracked more bank accounts than every hacker or bank robber in history.”

I’ve watched many crime movies. I’ve heard all sorts of crazy stories about elaborate heists and hacks. Then, I recall how divorce laws work in this country and realize that if you’re going to crack a safe, sometimes a vagina and a great pair of tits is the best tools you can have. You don’t see too many sexy female bank robbers, do you?

That’s it for now. Enjoy the NFL playoffs and keep your tables clean!

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