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Five Overused Romantic Sub-Plots (And How To Fix Them)

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Being a self-professed romance fan, I know more about the intricacies of romantic sub-plots than most men would ever dare admit. I’ve consumed an absurd amount of romantic media over the years and I’ve noticed more than a few common themes, some more endearing than others.

However, by consuming so much romantic content, I’ve also seen certain themes get overused and badly mishandled. I could list countless instances promising romantic sub-plots collapsing because it fell into a narrative trap. Sometimes, it’s because of poor writing. Sometimes, it’s because the story has too many constraints. I’ve even cited a few famous cases that exhibit both.

Whatever the case, it’s not hard to screw up a romantic sub-plot. I’ve done that more than a few times with the stories I’ve written. Lately, though, there are certain types of sub-plots that have lost their luster. They’ve either been done too many times or haven’t innovated in way too long.

Overused or not, I believe there are elements of these sub-plots that are worth saving. They just need some refinement and polish. What follows is a list of five overdone romantic sub-plots, why they’ve become so bland, and how to fix them. I’ve covered some of these elements before. This is just the romance lover in me offering some tips for future romance stories.


Romantic Sub-Plot #1: Best Friends Turned Lovers

Why It’s Overdone

I think you can thank sitcoms like “Friends” and movies like “Clueless” for this sub-plot to fall out of favor. Personally, I blame Ross and Rachel for giving this theme a bad name. They took the whole friends-falling-in-love plot way too far. Towards the end, it was more annoying than compelling.

These days, this sub-plot isn’t as common as it used to be. I think a lot of romance fans were burned out on it in the 1990s and early 2000s. There’s only so many times a character can say in so many words “I didn’t realize that what I was looking for was right here in front of me” and sound genuine.

How To Fix It

Simply put, this sub-plot needs to shake up the setting. Too many times, a story about friends becoming lovers is built around one friend having had feelings for the other over many years. That can be sweet when done right, but it’s way too easy to be done wrong. These days, it almost comes off as a long con or stalking.

To fix it, the emphasis needs to shift towards two characters undergoing major upheavals. Perhaps they go through a tragedy or trauma that changes the way they feel about other people. It can’t just be restricted to their friend/lover, either. This upheaval should affect their entire world and from there, they come together in a new way.

It has the potential to show two characters go through major growth as individuals, which eventually turns into growth as a couple. That kind of growth can work wonders for any romance and could offer something more meaningful than old friends hiding their feelings.


Romantic Sub-Plot #2: Love Triangles

Why It’s Overdone

I’ve already made my hatred of love triangles very clear. I’ve gone so far as to cite one from the X-men as the worst of all time. Beyond the comics, though, it’s not hard to see cases of this sub-plot done horribly wrong. Even contemporary romance like “Twilight” and “The Hunger Games” have made this troubled trope more insufferable.

Simply put, love triangles reduce everyone involved to prizes or plot devices. It’s next to impossible to make every character in a love triangle feel like a real character. It turns romantic development into a competition and in the long run, nobody wins and certain characters lose badly.

How To Fix It

I’m tempted to say that love triangles should be abandoned and killed with a 12-gauge shotgun, but I’m not a fan of throwing away romantic themes, no matter how much I despise them. For this particular theme, I think it needs more than just a fix. It needs a complete overhaul.

By that, it can’t just involve two people competing for someone else’s affection. That gets old fast. If there is going to be a love triangle, then it should actually take the time to show why someone is torn in the first place. It needs to be clear that someone genuinely loves more than one person and there’s a reason for that love.

This is also a sub-plot that may benefit from shifting taboos. Non-monogamy is becoming more mainstream and there aren’t many real romance stories about that idea that aren’t bad pornos. A love triangle has to stop being an either/or plot and become a why/how plot. There needs to be a concerted effort to ensure everyone involved gets some sort of emotional resolution that doesn’t involve someone getting screwed over.


Romantic Sub-Plot #3: Destined Lovers

Why It’s Overdone

If you’ve gone through any high school English class or are just familiar with certain literary traditions, you’ve probably seen this in all kinds of media. “Romeo and Juliet” is probably the most famous, but it still shows up frequently throughout romantic media. It’s prevalent in movies like “Titanic” and comics like “Superman.”

Don’t get me wrong. I have a soft spot for star-crossed lovers who are destined to fall in love, but it’s a very bland sub-plot. There’s no real sense of conflict. You know two characters are going to end up together and where’s the intrigue there?

How To Fix It

For this sub-plot, I think a simple shift in context would help. Most romance featuring destined lovers emphasis how they come together, despite the obstacles in front of them. I think it might be more compelling to explore why these characters are star-crossed to begin with. Is it just destiny or are there other forces at work?

There are a lot of factors that go into romance, even those of the non-destined variety. Why not explore the concept of destiny, as it relates to love? Why not dig a little deeper into the intricacies of how it unites people so completely? That wouldn’t just offer a meta-perspective of love, as a plot device. It would give us all an opportunity to reconsider what it means to be in love.


Romantic Sub-Plot #4: Love At First Sight

Why It’s Overdone

This sub-plot is very similar to the destined lovers trope. It’s often a pre-cursor to two people finding out they’re destined to be together. For many of the same reasons, it’s pretty bland and basic. One character sees another, some sappy music starts playing, and the love story is effectively laid out.

We see it happen very overtly in “Romeo and Juliet” and “Titanic.” We see it manifest in some form in most romantic comedies. A character just sees someone they find attractive and that becomes the catalyst for their love. It’s sweet, but not very deep and it has just become too predictable at this point. When two people fall in love at first sight, what other story is there to tell?

How To Fix It

This one can’t be fixed with the same methods as the destined lovers sub-plot. This is one of those plots that doesn’t have to be radically altered, but definitely needs fresh nuance. Finding that nuance means injecting more than just love into the mix when two characters first meet.

The first encounter between two characters is always pivotal. It helps set the tone for their relationship, romantic and otherwise. To make this sub-plot work in new ways, characters need to intrigue each other in new ways. It can’t be enough that they’re attractive. There has to be something else about them.

Maybe the character has a skill that someone has never seen before. Maybe the character causes someone to re-think a past assumption. Maybe it sends them on a new journey that their love interest can join. There are many opportunities here. There doesn’t have to just be one.


Romantic Sub-Plot #5: Sex Complicating Love

Why It’s Overdone

This one is probably the most overtly sexual romantic sub-plot that also happens to be the most predictable. Ironically, it’s “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me” that summed it up best. Things go from “Don’t worry, it won’t get weird” to “It got weird, didn’t it?” That’s every sex-complicating-love story in a nutshell.

This one also has the burden of being weighed down by long-standing sexual taboos. While it may seem like those taboos have faded in the 21st century, it’s still the slutty women and stud men who die first in slasher movies. Sex, even in a romance story, still comes off as something dirty that somehow undermines a romance.

Even though sexual attitudes have evolved a great deal, the idea that sex complicates/ruins a relationship hasn’t moved very far. It’s why sex tends to be an afterthought in modern romances. Sometimes, it’s ignored or assumed and that’s just a waste of quality sexual chemistry.

How To Fix It

As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, I’ve been working on that for years. While I can’t claim to have a definitive answer, I have surmised a few ideas turn sex from a complication to a catalyst. It doesn’t have to be overly titillating or pornographic, although that can work. It just has to supplement the romance rather than subvert it.

Sex in romance is often treated like an endgame. It’s marks the culmination rather than the progression of a relationship. I believe that’s a missed opportunity. In any romance, sex should function as a progression, of sorts. It takes the relationship to a new stage, one where new opportunities for emotional and personal growth emerge.

When two characters have sex, it can be more than just a chance to depict genitals and female breasts. It can be an exercise of intimacy where two characters strengthen their bond, rather than sully it. That gives greater meaning to the sexiness and nothing makes romance hotter than genuinely meaningful sex.

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Filed under Marriage and Relationships, media issues, polyamory, romance, sex in media, sexuality

“After The Cure” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote while some close family members of mine dealt with major medical issues. It helped remind me just how invaluable doctors can be in keeping us healthy and easing the suffering of others. That talent gives them a unique sex appeal, which I attempt to celebrate in this story. Enjoy!

“Another day, another bunch of lives saved…and lost,” said a restless Dr. Albert Galen.

It was a common refrain for the end of Dr. Galen’s day. It started bright and early in the oncology wing at the Walen Carter Hospital, which he’d worked at for nearly ten years. Throughout the course of his day, he met with patients who’d just gotten the worst news anyone could get about their health. They had cancer.

Regardless of how treatable it was, the news always hit hard and he had to be the one to break it down. Across from his desk, which was often cluttered with files and paperwork, there was a chair where most of his patients sat. More often than not, they were already scared, devastated, and in tears. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to break down crying while he gave them important medical information. That happened at least three times over the past week.

Dr. Galen had to be numb to all that, hardening his soul to an extent that made him feel like a machine spouting medical jargon rather than a doctor. He got into medicine for the same reason most doctors did. He wanted to heal people. He remembered how eager and energetic he’d been when he saw his first patient. Now, he questioned whether he could ever feel that kind of energy again.

The last two days gave him plenty of reasons to doubt that. On his desk was a file of a 42-year-old woman who’d just died because of lung cancer that should’ve been treatable. Less than three hours ago, he had to watch the woman’s husband and children break down crying after she passed. His nurses tried to console them, but Dr. Galen knew there was only so much healing they could offer.

“Life isn’t fair and neither is medicine,” he said solemnly as he closed the woman’s file.

Those were the exact words of his predecessor, Dr. James, who’d retired several years early from oncology. Dr. Galen hadn’t noticed at the time, but there was a distant emptiness in his eyes. He later suspected that Dr. James retired early because he’d seen one too many heartbreaking scenes. He had treated and cured countless patients, but the ones he lost always stung the worst. Looking back on it, he probably should’ve seen that as a warning.

“There’s fair, there’s unfair, and then there’s this,” the middle-aged man said with a sigh. “Cancer…the ultimate injustice.”

Checking his watch, he saw that it was late. He should’ve gone home an hour ago, but Dr. James preferred to keep busy. It was his way of coping with especially unfair days. After watching cancer take the life of a woman who’d attended her youngest son’s first little league game three weeks ago, he needed to stay extra busy. That woman had been especially unlucky, even by medical standards. Cases like that took cancer’s unfairness to an extreme.

Dr. Galen knew that doctors couldn’t get too personally attached with patients. That was supposed to mitigate the impact whenever something went wrong, which happened fairly often with cancer. Even for the best doctors, though, it took a toll.

“The doctors that save the most lives usually have the most hardened souls,” Dr. Galen muttered, “the second greatest injustice.”

That was something his old teacher in medical school told him when he said he wanted to specialize in oncology. He didn’t get the subtext at the time, but with each dead patient, it felt like less a warning and more a prophecy…one that kept fulfilling itself.

Still not inclined to go home, Dr. Galen sat back in his desk and opened up the drawer where he kept a bottle of scotch. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have it in the oncology wing, but after seeing a seven-year-old boy cry over the body of his dead mother, he sensed the Dean of Medicine would give him a pass.

“Guess my soul isn’t hard enough yet,” he said, “but I’m almost there.”

In the bottle, Dr. Galen saw the reflection of a middle-aged man who looked at least eight-years older than he should have. He wasn’t even 50 and his hair was already graying. It undercut how hard he’d worked to take care of himself after his father died at such a young age. That work didn’t seem to matter, though. Even when he wasn’t the one with cancer, it still found a way to make him sick.

Groaning to himself, the middle-aged man opened the bottle and retrieved a glass from the other drawer. As he sifted through more messy folders, there was a knock at his door.

“Dr. Galen?” said a feminine voice. “Do you have a minute?”

Looking up from his desk, Dr. Galen was somewhat surprised to see an attractive young woman standing in his doorway. If the low cut mini-skirt, halter top, and cheap flip-flips were any indication, she wasn’t a nurse.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, setting aside the scotch bottle and putting on his professional demeanor again. “Can I help you, ma’am? Just so you know, I don’t usually take appointments this late at night.”

“That’s okay. I’m not a patient,” the woman said. “My name is Anna. My mother is Lydia Strom. You treated her for non-small-cell lung carcinoma last month.”

Dr. Galen needed a minute to recall that name, partly due to the late hour of the night and the myriad of patients he treated. It was somewhat striking that someone remembered such a specific type of cancer, which helped him recall a particular case. In that same case, though, he didn’t recall the patient’s daughter wearing such provocative attire to a hospital.

“Lydia Strom…I remember treating her,” Dr. Galen said. “She’s the woman who always had to have that old jade necklace of hers nearby, right?”

“Yep! That’s her,” Anna said with a smile.

“Is she okay?” he asked. “If I recall, we caught it early and she responded well to chemotherapy.”

“You did. As far as I know, she’s completely cured and as healthy as she’s ever been. She even started taking tennis lessons with my dad.”

“That’s a healthy activity. Is everything else okay? Did she see get that counseling I recommended?”

“Calm down, Doctor. I’m not here because something’s wrong,” the young woman told him. “I’m here because I wanted to thank you personally. When someone saves your mother from cancer, a thank-you and a gift card just doesn’t cut it.”

Dr. Galen was taken aback, but in a good way. It wasn’t that unusual for a patient or their family members to offer extra gratitude after their treatment. After the day he’d endured, though, he needed it.

“Oh, well…you’re very welcome, I suppose,” he said, still trying to maintain his professional demeanor. “I’m not the only one you should thank, though. My nurses, my staff, and even my assistants played a part.”

“I already thanked them,” Anna said. “They all told me the same thing. You’re the one who does the heavy lifting around here. You make all the hard calls. You shoulder the good news and the bad. Some even wonder how you do it.”

“It comes with the degree and the stethoscope, especially my chosen field.”

“You say that like it’s no big deal.”

“I know it is,” he admitted, “although, if I’m being honest, my staff thinks I handle things better than I actually do.”

“In their defense, you’re very convincing. You had to keep your cool while my father, my brother, and little sister lost it when you gave your diagnosis. We were all so scared. For a while, I actually had to think about my mother dying…contemplating life without her.”

Her words took on an emotional undertone. Dr. Galen had heard it many times before, but the way Anna said it made it seem meaningful. It was enough to make him temper his doctor-like demeanor that he always maintained while at the hospital.

Anna took a moment to regain her composure. She then entered his office, closing the door behind them. Walking up to his desk, her eyes glistening with tears of sincerity, she leaned over his desk. In doing so, Dr. Galen noticed that the halter top she wore was a bit undersized.

“I’ve never been good at confronting terrible things,” she went on. “During my mom’s treatment, I basically hid in the corner and kept my head down, not wanting to look at it or think about it. That’s probably why you don’t remember me.”

“That, and I don’t recall you wearing such noticeable attire,” Dr. Galen said, trying hard not to stare at the young woman’s cleavage.

“That’s because I only dress this way when I’ve got a damn good reason. Not long ago, that usually involved getting free drinks at the bar near my college dorm. Now, my priorities are different.”

There was a very seductive subtext to her words. Anna leaned over a bit more, as if to direct his gaze towards her breasts. Having eschewed professionalism, Dr. Galen let himself look. In doing so, he surmised that the young woman wasn’t wearing a bra. From there, the doctor in him diagnosed her intent.

“My world changed when I found out my mom had cancer,” Anna continued. “It changed again when you told her she was cured.”

“I’m just doing what doctors do,” he said, his eyes alternating between her breasts and face.

“It’s one thing to treat a sore throat. It’s another to treat cancer. That’s why when you save a life, it matters a little more. It also deserves special gratitude.”

She almost seemed determined, as though it was her duty to bring balance to a horribly unfair universe. Having just lamented about the gross injustices wrought by cancer, her demeanor heightened Dr. Galen’s interest almost as much as her cleavage.

With his eyes now locked on her, the attractive young woman crawled up onto his oversized desk, not at all minding the mess of files and paperwork. Upon reaching the center, she shifted into an upright position, narrowed her gaze on him, and stripped off the undersized halter top. She even made a spectacle of it, doing it slowly and sensually so that her well-shaped breasts came tumbling out in just the right way. Suddenly, her lack of a bra made sense.

“Wow,” the middle-aged man said distantly.

“Just the symptom I was hoping for,” Anna said playfully.

Four years of medical school, three years of residency, and over a decade of experience in a well-funded private hospital had not given him the vocabulary he needed for that moment. He’d seen plenty of naked bodies of varying states of health. The sight of female breasts shouldn’t have had such an impact, but the way Anna presented them defied medical expertise.

“For the man who saved my mother, though,” she said, “I’d like to go the extra mile!”

That came off as both ambitious and sexy. Still atop a pile of paperwork, the attractive young woman unzipped the back of her mini-skirt and took it off, revealing an overly revealing G-string thong. It looked like something a woman would wear to a strip club rather than a hospital. After tossing the skirt aside, kicking her flip-flops off in the process, Anna made her intentions abundantly clear.

“Please…let me thank you, Dr. Galen,” she said intently, “not with words, cards, or hugs. I want to give you something more…something fitting for a man who fights the hardest battles in medicine.”

“I’d say that’s not necessary,” Dr. Galen said, “but I doubt that would dissuade you.”

“Another accurate diagnosis,” Anna laughed. “Battles leave scars. My dad’s an ex-marine so I know the signs. Plus, after finding out from your nurses that you’re single and only married to your work…well, let’s just say I don’t mind being a mistress for one night.”

Like a sexy predator, she crawled across the desk and grabbed him by his tie. She then pulled him into a deep, sensuous kiss…one that included lips, tongue, and everything in between. Dr. Galen offered no resistance. If anything, he embraced it and not just because he hadn’t had time for love, relationships, or sex.

His soul had been so hardened, agonizing over the patients he lost rather than celebrating the patients he saved. In his never-ending effort to remain professional, as a doctor, he worked so hard to temper his passions. Over the years, he’d become way too good at it. In an instant, though, Anna removed those emotional restraints.

“Stand up,” the beautiful woman said, still clutching her tie. “Let someone else treat you, for once.”

Not questioning her credentials, Dr. Galen did as she asked, rising up from his chair so the stood at the edge of his desk. Almost immediate, Anna undid his pants, pulling pushing them down along with his underwear to free his growing manhood. Just seeing her breasts earlier got his blood flowing in the right direction. Kissing her had ignited his arousal and Anna seemed intent on accelerating it.

“Wow. Looks like you need extra treatment,” Anna teased.

“You have no idea,” Dr. Galen said under his breath.

Licking her lips, the young woman eagerly engulfed his cock with her soft lips. Then, with an intensity and passion he rarely saw in a cancer ward, Anna went to work giving him oral sex. Like a skilled surgeon performing a delicate operation, she sucked and licked along the length of his member.

That hot, moist feeling around his manly flesh was intoxicating, sending shivers of sharp sensation through his body. His knees nearly buckled, forcing him to hold onto her head where he ran his fingers through her long, silky hair. The stern poise that doctors were supposed to maintain further faltered, making way for more intense feelings.

“Anna…so thorough,” he gasped, the doctor in him still making observations. “That feels…so good.”

The young woman looked up at him with those seductive eyes as she sucked his dick. In them, he saw plenty of lust, but he saw just as much gratitude. She was really serious about thanking him. She wasn’t just looking at an accomplished doctor who hadn’t lost all his hair yet. She was looking at the man who saved her mother. That proved to be a powerful motivator.

The intensity of her oral sex escalated. She took in as much of his length as her gag reflex allowed, which proved quite impressive. She used her tongue along with her lips, grasping the base with both hands and working to maximize his arousal. It didn’t take long for him to reach that state. Between her blowjob skills and him not having had sex in a while, Dr. Galen soon felt the burning need to vent his pent up desires.

Anna must have sensed that need because she ceased her oral teasing, but kept stroking his cock with the utmost care. Already gasping for air, streaks of saliva dripping down her face, she bore the expression of a woman who had just as much desire.

“Mmm…nice and hard,” Anna said to him.

“It’s been a while,” Dr. Galen said sheepishly.

“That ends now!” the attractive woman said intently.

Without hesitation, she adjusted her body so that she could remove her revealing thong. She even made it a point to toss it to him, as if to give him a keep-sake. Dr. Galen caught it instinctively, which allowed him to feel how hot and moist they were. It showed just how aroused she was, the thought of giving herself to the man who saved her mother providing the ultimate turn-on.

“Take me, Dr. Galen,” Anna urged him, eagerly presenting him with her fully naked body. “Do whatever you need to do…as hard as you need to do it.”

“I assure you, Anna,” Dr. Galen told her as he loosed his tie, “what I need from you is not that extensive.”

“So try anyways,” she told him.

That came off as a diagnosis, of sorts…as though she could see his hardened soul and all the cracks that had emerged. He spent so much time treating others, but had ignored treating himself for his own ailments. Now, here she was, offering him the perfect medicine in the form of her sex.

Dr. Galen couldn’t get undressed fast enough. After undoing his tie, he threw off his white coat and undid his dress shirt. Anna even helped him, crawling over to the ledge of his desk and kissing him hard on the lips, her gratitude and affection showing with every gesture. She prioritized his treatment and he finally decided to do the same.

As soon as he got the rest of his clothes off, he eagerly took Anna by the hips and pulled her forward so that she was off his desk. Their lips never parted, his tongue wrestling with hers as he got his first taste of her naked skin. Then, with a recklessness not typical for an experienced doctor, he cleared an area on his desk by tossing aside the stacks of paper and assorted clutter, creating a nice space of clear mahogany with which to work.

Dr. Galen wasted no time in beginning the treatment, turning the young woman around and bending her over his desk to that those voluptuous breasts of hers pressed up against the wood. It also gave him his first solid look at her heart-shaped ass, which she wasn’t afraid to shake a little, as if he needed more incentive.

“I’m ready, Dr. Galen,” Anna said. “Go on. Treat yourself as much as I want to treat you.”

The middle-aged man didn’t say a word. Feeling a surge of energy that most men his age didn’t feel after midnight, he grabbed hold of the young woman’s hips and guided his throbbing member towards her wet crevice. His desires in overdrive, he thrust forward and entered her hot depths.

“Ohhh, Dr. Galen!” she moaned.

He responded only with a grunt. For a brief moment, the experienced doctor savored the feeling of her womanly flesh surrounding his rigid cock. He could feel her inner muscles tighten, as if to embrace him with her gracious affections. It gave greater meaning to the basic pleasures that followed, as well as greater incentive.

Flushed with vigor he hadn’t felt since med school, Dr. Galen began moving his hips, working his manhood inside Anna’s depths. For once, he wasn’t the overly careful doctor. Instead, he was the patient getting the treatment he needed. The treatment just happened to be the sex of a beautiful, grateful young woman.

“That’s it! That’s it, Doctor!” Anna gasped, matching his energy every step of the way. “Your treatment…so good.”

Those passionate cries spoke volumes for the potency of such treatment. It only got more potent as he stepped up the pace.

Grunting and gasping with greater intensity, Dr. Galen fervently pumped his cock into the young woman’s depths, rocking her body and his desk. She eagerly shifted with every thrust, elevating her right leg and raking her nails down the polished wood. He didn’t care if she left scratches. He didn’t even care when she knocked his phone off the table. Nothing mattered at the moment besides embracing the treatment he so sorely needed.

At one point, Anna rose up and guided one of his hands to her swaying breasts. The feeling of her fleshy mound in his hand added greater intimacy to their act. The way she placed her hand over his, urging her to caress her body and fill her depths, demonstrated more than the whims of a horny young woman. They revealed a sincerity behind the desire, a genuine effort to offer more than just a simple thank-you. Having received plenty of hugs and cards from cured patients, Dr. Galen welcomed that effort.

Whether by gratitude or raw lust, their bodies shifted over the course of their sex. Anna kept guiding his hands over her naked body, allowing him to feel almost every counter of her feminine figure. Dr. Galen found that she enjoyed having her nipples pinched. She also enjoyed having her buttocks rubbed a certain way. It showed in the way she moaned and gasped through each act.

“Anna,” he said in a deep tone as he rubbed her nipples, “you’re welcome…so very welcome.”

“Ooh thank you, Dr. Galen!” she said, mirroring his sentiment. “Thank you so much!”

His keen medical knowledge of the human body’s tender spots really paid off. He was fairly certain she climaxed at least once, although even his medical expertise only went so far. She didn’t seem to make that priority, though. Orgasms were a bonus rather than a goal. She remained intent on treating him.

In the spirit of maximizing that treatment, he repositioned her body in preparation for his own peak. He briefly withdrew from her depths, picked up her off the floor, and set her down on his desk so that she faced him. Her legs remained wide open, welcoming him back into her depths with ease. As he grabbed her by the thighs and resumed their sex, making an extra push towards a much-needed release, she threw her arms around his neck and gazed longingly into his eyes.

“You need this. You want this. I can feel it,” Anna said intently. “Please, Dr. Galen…let me give it to you!”

Dazed and desperate for that healing bliss, he kissed her deeply and wrapped his arms around her as he made his way to the brink. He embraced her as desperately as she’d embraced him, wanting to receive the powerful feeling she sought to convey. Through that shared effort – her offering and him taking it – Dr. Galen achieved a peak that was nothing short of a miracle cure.

“Ohhh Anna!” he exclaimed.

It was like diving into a pool of healing, feeling that powerful surge of pleasure and fulfillment. His hold on her tightened, his knees buckled, and his member throbbed inside her in conjunction with his release. Hot waves bliss rippled through his body, supplemented by Anna’s tender touch and affectionate embrace. In that moment, he felt his soul soften for the first time in years.

While locked in each other’s arms, her legs still secure around his waist, Dr. Galen just clung to her as she supported him in his blissful state. Her gracious gaze and warm smile never faded. She even caressed the side of his unshaven face, not caring about the gray hairs. It was like she had taken his hand and guided him out of a dark corner that he’d stayed in for too long. Instead of lamenting on the patients he lost, he celebrated the ones he’d saved.

“Anna…you were right,” Dr. Galen said, still breathless from his peak. “I did need that…more than you know.”

“Don’t you dare thank me, Doctor,” Anna teased, still caressing his face. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Well, I think you’ve made the extent of your gratitude quite clear.”

“Good!” she said. “That means I can skip a few steps from here on out.”

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously.

“I mean…I’m still not done thanking you.”

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Daily Sexy Musings: Hot and Sweaty

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When it comes to sex appeal, sweat is one of those things that can either enhance or undermine it. As someone who works out regularly, I’m very familiar with both. I can personally attest to the differences.

After a good workout, sweat gives your sex appeal an extra glow. After a long round of heavy toil, it just makes you disheveled and smelly. There may very well be a fundamental difference a chemical and psychological level, one that informs our libido that this type of sweat is conducive to passionate lovemaking. I don’t know for sure, but this daily sexy musing focuses on the sexier, steamier side of sweat. Enjoy!

I stand before you, dripping with sweat and utterly disheveled. My clothes are dirty, my hair is a mess, and my skin feels wet and clammy. It’s like nature dumped a bucket of salty water over me, washing away the aesthetics of civilization.

As I look at you, I reveal my least organized self. I appear as I would in nature, my primal self with every flaw and cut exposed in full. I cannot hide the odor. I cannot conceal the dirt and grime.

My breathing is ragged.

My muscles burn from strain and strife.

My skin glistens from a thick layer of sweat.

I feel the dirt cling to me, as if to keep me from brushing it away in your presence. It’s like the world won’t let me escape your scrutiny. My beauty and ugliness are there for you to take in. Does it offend you? Does it affect our love?

Then, I see you smile. Like a beam of light piercing the clouds, it gives me new energy. You walk over and embrace me, not all dissuaded by the sweat. If anything, it acts as a catalyst. Suddenly, our love burns even brighter.

You kiss me.

You touch me.

You let my sweat graze your flesh.

In that moment, you join me in my primal state. Every touch becomes raw, unfiltered, and untamed. There’s no formality or etiquette. There’s only a strong, burning desire to mix your sweat with mine. The rigor isn’t done. It’s only beginning.

My dirty clothes come off. Your clean clothes follow. They end up in the same pile, but that doesn’t bother us. The sweat and grime remain on my sticky skin, but that doesn’t bother us. It only energizes us. I want you to feel my dirty flesh. You want to feel it, too. The only thing stopping us is time and space.

We don’t bother with beds or furniture. Any hard surface will do. Like a catalyst, the sweat helps our skin glide together. It’s so smooth, every sinew effortlessly gliding together. Before long, your sweat mixes with mine.

From our love, we share in a new rigor.

From that rigor, we create a new heat.

From that heat, our passions taking form and substance.

It started with sweat. It ended with even more. Together, we’re both so disheveled. From the heat and the rigor, we literally forged our love. Dirty and exhausted, we get the job done.

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“Pile Of Leaves” A Sexy Short Story (About Fall)

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The following is a sexy short story that I wrote to celebrate the beginning of Fall and all the yard work that it incurs. Normally, there’s nothing sexy about that work. I hope to change that with this. Enjoy!

“I hate raking leaves,” muttered a sweaty and sore Darren Cole

“That’s that eighth time you’ve said that today. Keep it up and you’ll get a free burger,” teased Allison Drake, his fiancé and long-time lover.

“I’ll gladly exchange all the free food for the rest of my life to never rake leaves again.”

“I’d make that trade in a heartbeat if I could, but it’s October and we can’t afford a landscaping crew. This is just part of the life we have…and the one we’re trying to build.”

Darren groaned again, but stopped short of adding to the drudgery. He just gripped the rake a little harder, sweeping the last round of leaves into the sizable pile that he and Allison had made over the past four hours. It was hard, frustrating work, but his fiancé made an important point. Raking leaves was one part of an emerging life they had been forging together.

It had been five months since he’d proposed to Allison, but they had been acting like a married couple for years. Friends and family members used to joke that they were the youngest old couple they had ever seen. They’d grown up together in the same neighborhood. They’d endured puberty, high school, and multiple failed jobs. Along the way, falling in love with her just felt like a natural part of the process.

They had gone through so much together, from his father passing away to her older sister getting arrested. He and Alison could manage the obstacles. That was not an issue anymore. Building a stable life, however, seemed much more daunting.

“Building a life,” Darren mused as he packed more leaves onto the large pile, “I know it’s not supposed to be easy, but stuff like this…”

As he caught his breath and stretched his sore muscles, he turned towards Allison, who was also raking the last round of leaves from the yard. She was as dirty and sweaty as him, wearing those stained jean shorts she hated and the T-shirt with a hole in the sleeve that she refused to throw away. Even if they already acted like they were married, it still felt as though they were behind the curve.

In another six weeks, Allison was going to look her absolute best as they walked down the aisle together in a big, elaborate ceremony that his parents insisted on paying for. Darren was going to wear an overpriced tuxedo that his cousin had custom-made for him, one he claimed was worth more than the down payment he’d put down for his first car. Looking their best on their wedding was the easy part, though. It was the little things that often confounded Darren.

He and Allison had lived together for years in a small, but functional apartment. After he proposed, they agreed they needed a bigger place. They needed something stable and permanent, a place they could truly call home. It seemed so good on paper. Darren had no idea it would be so much work.

It started off easy. They didn’t have to search long for their first home together. His Aunt and Uncle had moved out of their old house earlier that year after retiring to a tropical climate. Rather than sell it to a stranger, they offered it to him and Allison at a discounted price. Having started new jobs and needing to rebuild their savings after such a big purchase, they had to build their new life in a very literal sense.

Just moving their stuff over from the apartment wasn’t enough. His Aunt and Uncle’s house was located on a big lot with lots of space, plenty of trees, and good views. It was an amazing place, especially for a couple of newlyweds, but it required a lot of upkeep. Raking leaves was just the latest in a long list of maintenance tasks that had kept them busy for the past several months. It seemed like there was no end to it.

“Do you think all this was necessary?” Darren asked as he caught his breath.

“What do you mean?” Allison asked after setting the rake aside.

“All this – the house, the yard, and all the crap that goes into it – was it really necessary for my Aunt and Uncle? I know they’ve been married 49 years, but how much of that was because they had this house and everything that came with it?”

“I doubt it was that big a factor,” she said. “I’m sure it helped. All this space and fresh air…how could it not?”

“That’s kind of my point. Did they buy this place because they needed it? Or did they buy it because they thought that was just what newlyweds did?”

“Are you questioning the basics of married life already?” Allison said with a chuckle. “Darren, we haven’t even gone on our honeymoon yet. Shouldn’t we wait a few anniversaries before we start questioning the institution?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound cynical. I guess raking all these leaves will do that to a man.”

“That, and you like to think ahead…sometimes to a fault.”

Darren laughed and shook his head. Allison knew him well. She knew his strengths and his weaknesses. While he didn’t consider planning ahead a weakness, he did see it at once of his quirks. It often annoyed his friends, but Allison didn’t mind. It might have even been part of why she fell in love with him.

As he kept dwelling on what awaited them in married life, his bride-to-be set the rake aside and took off the heavy gloves she’d been wearing. She then walked over to him and embraced him, not minding the dirt and sweat that had accumulated from hours of yardwork.

“Darren, do you know why I didn’t hesitate for a second when you asked me to marry you?” she asked him, that beaming smile of hers already easing his soreness.

“Are you going to tell me it wasn’t because paid my brother’s roommate to play our prom song?” he teased.

“Your knack for romantic gestures was just part of it,” she said. “A much bigger part was how well we work together.”

“Work? You make it sound like we share an office.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of work,” Alison said, rolling her eyes. “I’m talking about how we navigate things together. We don’t immediately default to you-do-your-thing and I-do-my-thing. We actually try to help each other, even if it’s something as simple as raking leaves.”

“Given how many leaves we just raked, I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.”

“It’s not about quality or quantity. It’s about our approach. It didn’t happen all at once, but at some point over the course of our relationship, we stopped seeing basic tasks as individual challenges. Even when we do things by ourselves, we keep each other in mind. I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of love or just something that happens to two people who have been together so long, but damn it if it doesn’t feel right.”

Allison caressed his face, running her fingers over his unshaven face. Again, the sweat didn’t bother her. If anything, it aroused her. The way she held him, her arms so affectionately draped around his neck, her love for him showed in so many ways…including the sexy ones.

At the same time, she made a keen observation that was easy to overlook for anyone who thought too much about the future. He and Alison had already gotten to a point that many married couples failed to reach. They saw works as a collaborative effort. Having known more than a few friends whose relationships failed without that effort, he quickly became more certain in both the present and the future.

“Yeah, it definitely feels right,” Darren told her, “among other things…other very sexy things.”

“You’re such a dog,” she teased.

“And you just love petting me,” he quipped.

“Which proves my point,” she added. “We’ve gotten past all the little things that usually keep a couple from making it down the aisle. We’re so good at it that the little things seem to stand out more.”

“Is that a good or a bad sign?”

“That’s just it…I don’t think it’s either. If anything, it’s an opportunity to appreciate just how lucky we are. I love you. You love me. We own a house, now. We’re getting married soon. If raking leaves is the most strenuous thing we do…hell, I’d say we’re doing a lot of things right.”

It almost made too much sense. Darren felt like berating himself for making such a big deal of it. Between fall rolling in so suddenly and having to learn the joys of yardwork once more, it was easy to forget just how lucky they were to have such a strong relationship. All the work they’d put into it made other work seem so mundane by comparison.

“You know just what to say to make me forget how much I hate yardwork,” Darren told her.

“That’s what good spouses do for each other,” Alison said playfully.

“I’ll remember that the first time I have to shovel snow from the driveway this winter.”

“So will I,” she said. “Sometimes, we need to remind ourselves why certain work is worth doing.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any less appealing.”

“Oh I don’t know. In my experience, a key benefit to sharing the work is giving it more appeal.”

“You honestly think you can make raking leaves that appealing?” Darren asked skeptically.

Almost immediately after uttering those words, his future wife cast him a mischievous grin. At that same moment, he Darren realized he did the one thing that brought out one of her most defining traits. He’d just challenged her and Alison loved nothing more than to rise to the occasion.

“Actually, I believe I can,” she said boldly.

“That wasn’t a dare,” he told her.

“Too late! I accept it.”

With energy that shouldn’t have been possible after four hours of yardwork, Alison pulled him into a kiss, complete with plenty of tongue and heavy passion. As sweaty and sore as he was, Darren eagerly kissed back. Anyone who had known the taste of Alison Drake would’ve done the same. Her love and her affection was just that powerful.

The only trait more powerful, in his experience, was her ability to captivate a man in any condition. Despite the sweat, dirt, and splinters, she eagerly pawed his upper body, conveying to him a desire that was not dispelled by the drudgery of raking leaves. In an almost fitting defiance of his hatred of fall yardwork, she led him onto the big pile of leaves they’d just created.

“Come on,” she said to him, “let’s put this big pile of leaves to good use!”

“I take it you’re not referring to composting,” Darren joked.

“No. I’m not,” Alison said in a serious, seductive tone.

Now lying together atop the messy pile, they made out like a couple of horny teenagers on prom night. She kissed him with more tongue, reaching up his shirt while hitching a leg around his waist, grinding her pelvis against his and really getting the blood flowing in all the right directions.

Darren kissed back with equal passion, slipping his hands into the back pockets of her shorts, giving her ass a firm squeeze. He knew how much she liked that, just as much as she knew how he liked to have his chest rubbed. He could already tell she was getting wet between her legs. The fact they knew each other’s bodies so intimately boded well for their honeymoon.

Every touch seemed to convey a growing desire. However, Darren hadn’t forgotten that they were still outdoors. While their back yard was fenced and the trees provided plenty of buffer, it still counted as an unusual location in which to vent their passions. That didn’t stop Alison from taking off her shirt, removing her bra in the process.

“Alison,” he gasped upon seeing her topless form, “we’re uh…still outside.”

“I know,” she said casually.

“It’s also a little chilly out. Are you sure?”

“Only if you’re willing to keep me warm,” she replied.

That sounded like both a challenge and a dare. Much like his future bride, though, Darren loved rising to the occasion. It didn’t just make for entertaining dares at parties in high school. It helped him become the dedicated lover he needed to be for Alison.

They made out some more. Darren made it a point to wrap her in his arms, hold her topless form close to him to keep her warm from the autumn gusts. He paid special attention to her nipples, which had become erect in the cold. When he gave them a slight pinch – a little kink that Alison never admitted to being a kink – she let out a purr of approval.

“Warm enough?” he asked her.

“Mmm…getting there,” Alison said playfully.

Encouraged, he stepped up his foreplay, trailing his lips over her cleavage and trailing his hands around her exposed skin. That helped keep her warm, but it also heightened his own arousal. He could already feel his pants getting uncomfortably tight.

Alison must have felt it too. Their hips grinding together probably gave it away. As they kissed, she undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants. Almost immediately, his cock popped free. The sudden exposure to the elements kept him from getting fully erect. However, his lover had already begun countering that by stroking it with both hands.

“Got to keep you warm too,” she said to him.

“Yeah…some parts more than others,” Darren said.

“Good thing I know how to prioritize.”

Working quickly and boldly, she maneuvered further down the leaf pile so she could give his penis more direct attention. That included shoving it between her breasts and sliding it between her fleshy mounds. That both kept him warm and helped hasten his arousal.

“Ooh!” he moaned. “You have amazing priorities, Alison.”

“Is that what we’re calling my tits, now?” Alison laughed. “I like it!”

Encouraged, she kept working his cock between her tits. Then, she leaned in and gave it a quick suck, sending shivers of bliss and desire coursing through his body. Even though the winds were brisk and the pile of leaves was cold, Darren felt a powerful heat build around him. It was hot enough to remove his flannel shirt, leaving him in the white sleeveless shirt he wore underneath. He kept that on, if only to keep the leaves from scraping his skin. It allowed him to focus entirely on the task at hand.

Alison did her part, using her breasts, lips, and tongue to get him into that special state where he didn’t just seek her intimate embrace. He needed it. She knew how to get him into that passionate mindset better than anyone. As he gazed down at her, that seductive gaze staring back at him, he let her know he was ready.

“I think we’re ready to really test this leaf pile,” she told him after giving his cock one last suckle.

“So do I,” Darren said.

With uncanny reflexes, Alison shot up to her feet briefly and removed her shorts, panties and all. He could tell even in the early twilight that she was very aroused. She needed his sex as much as he needed hers.

After tossing her clothes aside, wearing only a pair of old white sneakers, she rejoined him on the leaf pile. Like an angel in heat, she mounted him like her favorite perch, straddling his waist and aligning his rigid member with her wet entrance. Then, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other clutching his waist, Alison plunged her hips downward and guided his manhood into her pussy.

Immediately, their combined flesh sparked a heat that no fall or winter could hope to quell.

“Ohhh Darren!” Alison moaned.

“Alison…so warm and tight,” he moaned back.

Instincts and passion quickly took over. Their flesh united, they began moving together in a burst of heated lovemaking. It began with her lightly riding his cock, working her pussy along the length of his dick. It quickly escalated, turning into another passionate embrace mixed with heated kissing.

His hands eagerly roamed her naked skin, both to feel Alison’s heavenly touch and to keep her warm from more gusts. She replied with faster movements, rocking and gyrating her hips at a fervent pace. She threw in some loving gestures, which included her clinging to his neck and raking her nails along his back. Darren didn’t care if she left marks. They were already on top of a dirty pile of leaves. They were beyond caring about aesthetics.

In between the grunts and moans that came with sex, the pile of leaves under them rustled heavily. It was not at all like making love on a bed. Parts of it gave way. There were chunks of grass and mud everywhere, smothering and staining their remaining clothes and exposed skin. Darren didn’t care, though. Being messy, reckless, and adventurous only made the experience with his future wife more powerful.

“Alison,” he said in a passionate daze, “out here…together…on a pile of leaves.”

“Yes! Out here…together!” Alison exclaimed, her tone hinting that she was already close.

She rode him harder, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them as she crossed that special threshold that separated basic pleasure from the rush of orgasm. Alison never made it too hard for him. She once joked that she learned how to get off before she learned how to make love. Again, her priorities astonished him.

“I love you…so much,” she panted in the midst of ecstasy.

“I love you too, my autumn angel.”

Darren strengthened his embrace, holding her close so that she could enjoy her orgasm. As she buried her face in his shoulder, he kicked off his pants and underwear to give himself more room to work. Once certain that Alison had gotten her fill of bliss, he took the initiative and continued their sex.

With energy he shouldn’t have had after raking leaves for four hours, he continued making love to his fiancé, rolling around the pile of leaves as if it were a playground. She moaned and laughed as he maintained their passionate rhythm, hooking her legs around his waist and clinging to his neck to keep their bodies entwined. She didn’t seem to mind the leaves poking her skin or the mud on her back. She just kept returning every loving gesture, as if to guide him to his own peak.

“I…I’m getting close,” Darren grunted.

“You’ve worked so hard, my love. You’ve earned it,” she whispered into his ear.

Determined and encouraged, Darren intensified the pace of their sex, working his body against hers for the final push. He ascended quickly to his peak, his body shuddering in anticipation. When it finally arrived, he firmly grasped his lover’s hips and let out a cry to the autumn spirits, as if to proclaim to the heavens how much he loved his future wife.

“Ohhh Alison!”

He let out a deep grunt coupled with a satisfied moan. Time and the changing of seasons stopped for a brief moment. His gaze never diverted from hers as his member throbbed inside her, his manly fluids mixing with hers in a convergence of passion. The fact that convergence took place outdoors atop a dirty leave pile made it that much more meaningful.

Now breathing heavily, sweating despite the brisk air, he rested his forehead against hers as they settled into the post-coital afterglow. They laid next to one another, soaking in that special feeling under the autumn twilight. After the drudgery of raking leaves and assorted yardwork, it felt like a fitting way to cap off their day.

“What do you say, my future husband?” Alison said playfully, now lying next to him. “Do you hate yardwork a little bit less now?”

“I won’t say I love it,” Darren said with a coy grin, “but you definitely gave it more appeal.”

“I still call that a success! It should serve us well as newlyweds.”

“It definitely will,” he said confidently. “It’ll also give us even more incentive to make a much bigger leave pile next year!”

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Daily Sexy Musings: Quiet Moments

Sunset

Let’s face it. We live in a noisy, chaotic world. You don’t have to go very far to find yourself surrounded by the commotion of cars, winds, people, dogs, and any number of random rackets. It’s just an inescapable part of life. Wherever you go, there’s going to be noise. That makes opportunities for quiet moments few and far between.

That also makes those moments incredibly precious. We all need a moment of quiet every now and then, even if it takes some extra effort. Those moments can be especially powerful when you have someone to share them with. In my experience, the best couples are the ones who can handle comfortable silence. For them, a quiet moment is almost as intimate as making love.

This is a musing on the power of those moments. They may not be as sexy, but they certainly powerful and don’t result in messy bed sheets. Enjoy!

Finally, we get away. Work, bills, chores, and errands are behind us or set aside. For once, our ears stop ringing. At least, we can stop processing everything coming at us and just live.

We take a deep breath.

We sit down next to each other.

We hear only short breaths and long sighs.

The air is still. Our hearts beat steadily. There’s nothing to keep up with. There’s nothing to run towards. There’s just us, together in a peaceful moment, enjoying every moment we have together.

There’s no uncertainty, obstacle, or labor. We already overcame that. We spent so much time and energy coming together. Why should just being together require much more? We’ve made our case. We’ve proven ourselves. You know I love you. I know you love me. Does it have to be a spectacle?

There’s a time and a place for all things loud and festive. This is not one of them. For now, it’s just us. We’re together. We don’t have to jump through hoops. We don’t have to strive or struggle. We can just be.

Sitting with you, my arms around you and your arms around me, we don’t need to say a word. We don’t need to make a noise. Everything we need to say has been said. Every act that needs to be done has been done. An affectionate glance, a warm smile, and a simple gesture is all that’s necessary.

Every touch tells a million tales. Every kiss evokes countless emotions, past and present. In serene, peaceful silence, we remember every one of them. They play out in our minds, but they all converge in the present. In that moment, our love takes its most basic form.

We need not make a sound.

We need not say a word

We need not break a sweat.

The only thing we truly need is each other and a quiet place. Whether it’s in a room or in the middle of a forest, we have everything necessary to share in the moment. We can be fully clothed or completely naked. It makes no difference. We’re together. We’re at peace.

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“Mystery Stud” A (Kinky) Sexy Short Story

kink

The following is a sexy short story I wrote that demonstrates how a blindfold can be a catalyst for something kinky. Enjoy!

“Are you ready for this Marilyn?” asked Connie Chambers in her ever-coy tone.

“Ready, nervous, and excited as hell!” Marilyn Raven replied, trying hard not to sound like an overly-energetic little school girl.

“I’d ask if you’re sure, but you sound so giddy I’ll just skip the part where I act like your over-bearing friend.”

“I appreciate that. Now shut up and put the damn blindfold on me.”

Marilyn – or Mari, as her friends called her – didn’t usually bark orders like that. In fact, she was the kind of girl most described as friendly and soft-spoken, but a little more uptight than most women her age. Few would’ve guessed she had such a kinky side. Even fewer knew how much she loved to exercise it. Connie was among those select few and, on top of being her best friend since grade school, she had similar kinks. She even encouraged them.

“Okay, you horny slut,” Connie said, not yet matching her excitement. “I just hope you appreciate what we’ve had to go through to set this up.”

“Just shut up and blindfold me,” Mari retorted. “I’ll appreciate when I’m less horny.”

“Fair enough,” she laughed.

Connie, standing behind her in a cramped bathroom with poor lighting, placed the blindfold over her eyes. It was brand new, having purchased it less than six hours ago from their favorite sex shop where they were on a first-name basis with the owner. It was soft and silky, the kind meant to be comfortable for hours of continued wear. It spoke the extent of Mari’s sexual tastes that she’d put so much thought into something so simple.

She wasn’t surprised, though, and neither was Connie. They had been partners in kink, as they called it. They’d been helping each other explore their sexual appetites since they discovered how much they loved sex, which had been shortly after Mari realized how good she looked on a thong. What she had planned tonight was not the craziest thing she’d ever tried, but it had the potential to be something special.

“Make sure it’s comfortable,” Mari told her. “I don’t want it coming off before all is said and done.”

“Don’t worry,” Connie assured her. “You’re talking to a certified bondage queen, remember? I know all about making sure things are snug.”

Mari snickered, trusting her friend and focusing entirely on the latest sexcapade before her. It was part of the dynamic that she and Connie had developed. While Connie was usually the first to do something daring and new, Mari prided herself on her ability to refine it. That skill was exactly what had led them to a private sex club on a Thursday night in the middle of winter.

She’d planned it out a week ago. The club, itself, wasn’t that big. It was a bondage club that had been converted from an old bar. From the outside, it looked like an ordinary night club. It was in the exclusive areas upstairs where all the magic happened. That was where the dungeons, the hot tubs, and the bungalows were located. Everything from orgies to role playing to even wedding ceremonies had been known to occur behind the blacked-out windows.

Mari had set everything up ahead of time, reserving one of the smaller bungalows on the third floor that was typically used for BDSM and role playing. It contained a large bed with bondage accessories, including whips, handcuffs, and ropes. She wasn’t yet sure how much use those tools would get. If all went well, they wouldn’t be necessary.

“I’m trusting you to do a lot more than put on a blindfold,” Mari reminded her. “Trust is kind of a big theme for this.”

“No need to remind me,” Connie said, still standing behind her. “It always is with these sorts of things.”

“What I’m about to do, though…it’s going to be a hell of a test. Trust anybody this much, let alone a total stranger, is really pushing the kinkiness factor…even for me.”

“That’s part of the appeal,” her friend reminded her, “and rest assured, I intend to make it as hot as possible.”

She spoke in that deep, sensual tone again. Mari knew that tone well. It was the same tone Connie used when she had phone sex with her boyfriend. She only ever used it when she was either in the mood or really confident.

With the blindfold secure, the most critical step was complete. Her world now pitch-black, Mari could already feel the excitement growing. However, it was only the beginning.

“Time to get this show started!” Connie said. “Ditch the clothes, but leave the underwear.”

Mari couldn’t strip fast enough, slipping out of the fancy blue dress she’d bought last weekend and kicking off her heels. That left her only in a black lace thong with a matching push-up bra. She’d chosen attire that was easy to get out of and sent the right message. She was in the mood to get fucked, but she wanted to do it her way.

“You always had great tastes in thongs,” said Connie.

“Think it’ll get the job done?” Mari teased.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Her friend, now sharing her excitement, grabbed her arm and led her out of the bathroom. Mari followed closely, already feeling the plush carpet of the bungalow on her bare feet.

“Follow me,” Connie said. “From here on you, you keep your mouth shut unless you’re having an orgasm. Understand?”

“I understand,” Mari said, expecting those to be the last words she uttered for a while.

“Good! Then, lie down the bed, hold still for a bit, and wait for the magic to happen.”

Mari did as her friend asked, unable to stop herself smiling. It felt strange, given what she was about to do. A less adventurous, more prudish woman would’ve been fearful. Mari was not like that, though. She was different. She embraced the craziness that often came with her sex life.

With Connie’s help, she laid down in the center of the bed in the corner of the bungalow. She hadn’t used the room before and that was on purpose. She wanted everything to be unfamiliar, from the location to the types of sheets it used. Just feeling the plush, silky linens on her half-naked body was enticing. That was a promising sign in her book.

“I’ll be right back with your mystery stud,” Connie whispered into her ear. “Don’t you dare take that blindfold off. Just wait and the fun will come to you.”

Mari just nodded, taking deep breaths of anticipation as she laid still on the bed. She could feel the air around her getting hotter. Either the air conditioning was poor or she was just that horny. Whatever the case, she hoped she didn’t have to wait for too long.

Everything was silent for a while. She couldn’t even hear the music and chatter going on in other rooms, which was rare for the club on a Thursday night. She’d seen plenty of people crowding the bar downstairs. There were people there. She just didn’t know which one of them would be satisfying her tonight. That, in and of itself, was thrilling.

Being blindfolded, eager, and horny, time really slowed down for a while. On top of the soft, comfortable bed, she had little with which to occupy herself. Given how horny she felt, she fought the urge to just reach into her panties and masturbate. She managed to exercise restraint, but she could only last so long.

She couldn’t have been alone for more than a few minutes, but it still felt too long. For all she knew, it was on purpose. It was Connie’s way of building up the moment. If that was her tactic, it was cruel. If it worked, though, she would forgive her.

Finally, she heard the door to the room open and close. The sound, alone, made her tense with a mix of anxiety and arousal. She already heard footsteps approaching her. Then, she heard it.

“I’m here,” said a deep, masculine voice.

Mari’s heart skipped a beat. That voice, alone, conjured an image in her mind that added to her horniness. She immediately pictured a big, strong man standing in front of the bed, his every muscle bulging with testosterone. She also pictured a big, powerful dick hanging between his legs…a dick that she longed to feel inside her.

“Wow,” the voice said. “You’re even more beautiful than Connie described. She’s a woman of her word…and I intend to deliver as well.”

Her inner thighs moistened at that promise. The heat around her only intensified as she felt a figure crawl onto the bed with him. That proved the air conditioning in the club was working fine. It also affirmed that the man wanted her.

“I’d introduce myself,” he went on, “but Connie specifically told me not to give you my name. She doesn’t even want me to use a fake name. It’s not all about what she wants, though. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Mari trembled at the sound of that strong, masculine voice. She could only muster a nod, already feeling the warmth of his body near hers. She longed for his touch, but fought the urge to just jump him on the spot. She needed to trust in him and her plan.

“In order to do that, though, I need to do things my way,” he said. “That involves you trusting me completely. Do that from and we’ll both get what we want. You have my word.”

It was the most daunting part of her fantasy, placing implicit trust in a man she didn’t know and hadn’t even seen. Everything about their kinky situation related to trust. There was an inherent danger to it, making herself so vulnerable. There was also an immense thrill to it, one that helped fuel her desire.

Once again, Mari just nodded. She didn’t even attempt to reach out and touch the figure before her. If she was going to trust someone to such an extreme, then she was going to go all out.

“Good,” the man said. “Now, raise your arms over your head. I’m going to tie them to the headboard. Don’t worry. I’ll use soft rope.”

Mari did as he requested without hesitation, having already committed to the fantasy. She raised her arms up over her head. Moments later, she felt a soft rope wrap around her right wrist. Based on how quickly the man tied the knot, he had done it before. He was no stranger to bondage. He knew what he was doing. That inspired a bit more trust, as well as more arousal.

She remained still and vulnerable as the man tied her other hand. Before she knew it, her arms were perfectly secure above her head, rendering her completely vulnerable to the mystery stud in bed with her. Her heart was already pounding in her chest. She had no idea what the man was going to do to her or whether she could handle it. That feeling – a total lack of knowing an assurance, leaving her at the mercy of a stranger – evoked in her a special kind of excitement.

“So beautiful,” the man said, “tied up, blindfolded, and submissive.”

As he said those words, he caressed her face and trailed his hands down her body. Those hands were so hard, yet so warm. They felt like the kind of hands that threw bricks around for fun and built monuments. They radiated with the same intense manliness of his voice. Naturally, when those hands passed over her hips and chest, she shuddered with arousal.

“Your skin is so smooth and soft,” he went on. “Why don’t we get you out of that undersized underwear?”

Mari just smiled and purred softly, sending a seductive message that her mystery stud received loud and clear. Showing more eagerness, he swiftly unclasped her bra and removed her panties, leaving her completely naked. The feeling of hot air over her exposed breasts and inner thighs sent shivers down her spine, albeit the best possible kind.

“Such nice breasts,” the man said, “and such hard nipples, too. This is really turning you on, isn’t it?”

Before she could break her promised silence, he grasped her breasts with both hands, giving her nipples a light pinch in the process. Mari let out a high-pitched moan, her excitement echoing throughout the room. That further encouraged the man, who trailed one hand down between her legs where the heat from her pussy had reached maximum intensity.

“So hot and wet,” he said in a humored tone. “Guess that answers my question. That’ll make this next part easier.”

The mystery stud removed his hands from her breasts and pussy, leaving her untouched for a brief moment. That moment didn’t last long, though. Before she could linger too long in her bound state, she felt something brush along her chest and torso. It wasn’t a hand or a finger, either. It was a penis. Mari knew enough about human anatomy to know what a penis felt like on her flesh.

“You feel that?” the man told her. “Do you feel how hard I am?”

No answer was necessary. She clearly felt the intricate details of his stiff, rigid member on her naked skin. She also felt the bed shift as he got on top of her and slid his dick between her breasts, using his hands to mash them together to create a tighter fit.

Mari purred at the feeling. Connie most have told her she liked tit-fucking. Given the size and shape of her breasts, she was better-equipped for it than most women. It often went a long way towards getting a man in the mood and in her current state, it gave her a sense of how endowed the man really was.

As he playfully pumped his manhood between her breasts, Mari got an intricate feel for his size, shape, and firmness. She was already imagining what it would feel like inside her. Not being able to see it or hold it in her hands, she only had her imagination…her naughty, kinky imagination.

“I want to fuck you so much, right now,” the man said intently. “Seeing you here, all naked and bound…I want it so bad.”

Her mystery stud was getting impatient, sounding like a volcano of lust ready to blow its top. Mari wanted so bad to just tell him to do her like he wanted, but she refused to break her silence. That was still part of her fantasy.

She still had other ways of communicating her need, though. To show how much she wanted it too, she gave the tip of his dick a hard lick every time it neared her lips. It was a small feeling, but one that sent a clear message.

“You want it too,” he said. “You want it as much as I do.”

Mari just gave his dick another lick and grinned. She didn’t nod or moan. She wanted to build the anticipation in her mystery stud as much as he had with her. That ended up working faster than expected because he soon removed his cock from between her breasts.

“Then, to hell with dragging it out!” the mystery stud said. “I’m going to fuck you now. I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to come. It’s going to be fucking amazing!”

There was so much certainty in his words. Mari had heard that sort of thing from men before, but it always came off as overly-macho confidence. Whoever her mystery stud was, he was beyond confidence. He clearly had a kink for control, which was probably why Connie chose him. Control allowed him to be certain. With her bound, blindfolded, and silent, he could exercise that certainty.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered.

Mari eagerly complied, already breathing heavily as she felt him re-position himself on the bed. She could feel his figure between her legs as he gripped her thighs and held them apart. He was even bigger than she’d imagined. In her mind, she pictured a hulking hunk of masculine flesh in bed with her. That mental image, along with everything else he’d done to her so far, made her crave his sex like never before.

“Here it comes,” the mystery stud told in that deep, intense tone of his.

Almost immediately, Mari felt it. In one targeted motion, the man thrust his cock into her pussy. He filled her moist depths even better than she’d imagined. Letting out a deep moan, she roughly clung to the ropes that had bound her wrists and took in the feeling.

It was so sudden, not being able to see it happen and only being able to react. She could’ve spent hours bracing for it and she still wouldn’t have been prepared. Being blindfolded and bound meant she had no clue as to how intense their sex was going to get, but that was exactly how she wanted it. She’d entrusted her mystery stud to give her everything and he went to work rewarding that trust with the kind of hot, vigorous sex that Mari so loved.

“Ohhh yeah!” the man grunted. “So tight and wet…I love it!”

His every word echoed with lust, which he directed entirely onto her. With their flesh entwined, her mystery stud began humping her with reckless abandon. He made good use of his control over her, really putting his legs and back into it, working his rigid manhood inside her tight folds. Such rigor allowed him to get in deep, stimulating those areas inside her that were so hard to reach, even with a capable lover.

The entire bed rocked and so did Mari’s world. She moaned and gasped every step of the way, letting herself get extra loud. She clung harder to the ropes restraining her wrists, as though she would fly off without them. It went beyond the basic pleasures of hot sex. It was thrilling, being bound, blindfolded, and fucked by a man she couldn’t see or control in any way. Her mystery stud was in control, dominating her like no man had.

He even demonstrated he knew how to make use of that dominance. As he maintained the intense pace of their sex, he released his grip on one of her thighs and used his thumb to rub her clitoris. The man must have paid attention to the women he dominated because that accelerated her path to orgasm. It came rushing towards her so fast, like an oncoming tidal wave that got closer with each passing second.

“Ohhh!” was all Mari could get out.

“You’re coming,” her mystery stud grunted. “I know you are. I want you to. Here…come for me!”

Whether by the extent of his control over her or sheer coincidence, Mari’s body reacted as though he had just flipped a switch. That wave of sensation hit her hard, sending her into a blissful frenzy. She curled her toes, arched her back, and let out a cry of euphoria that left her ears ringing. She was so animated with her climax that her mystery stud had to slow down the pace of their sex.

“Damn!” he said. “You’re one…kinky…woman!”

Mari just shot him a beaming smile, which encouraged him to hump faster again. Still immersed in a world of ecstasy, she embraced that kink that was now so obvious. She’d exercised plenty of fantasies before, but none had been that effective. It was good to know for future lovers.

For now, though, she focused on the mystery stud before her. Mari remained in her blissful daze as the man kept exercising his control, making a hard push for his own taste of ecstasy. He hitched her legs up over his shoulder, shifted his grip to her breasts, and worked his cock into her with more focus. Like a man on a mission, he pushed himself to achieve what he craved.

“Now…it’s my turn,” he grunted. “I’m ready! I’m going to…come!”

He put a little extra force behind his last round of thrusts. That seemed to do the trick. When he finally crossed that threshold, gave her breasts a hard squeeze and let out an extra deep grunt as he climaxed.

It must have been pretty intense for him, as well. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her pussy, radiating with the same orgasmic ecstasy she had felt. The way his muscles felt on her body, his sweat mixing with hers under his powerful grasp, just radiated with so much sensual feeling. His control over her and her submission helped compound that feeling, making for the kind of sex that was both kinky and satisfying.

“Wow,” he said. “That was…wow.”

Still dazed from her climax, Mari just focused on catching her breath while her mystery stud lingered in their intimate entanglement for a while. Eventually, he withdrew from her and released her from his grasp. He even undid the ropes, but Mari still didn’t dare remove her blindfold or reach out to embrace the man.

Even though the sex was finished, orgasms and all, the fantasy wasn’t over. To maintain the power of that fantasy, she could never know what her mystery stud looked like. It was somewhat frustrating, not knowing who just gave her such great sex. That was part of what made it meaningful, though.

“Thank you, Mari,” her mystery stud whispered into her ear. “You’re a wonderful, kinky experience…one I won’t soon forget.”

Then, in an act that seemed out of place after such an elaborate sex act, he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek before leaving the bungalow. It was an odd notion, a man who loved to fuck hard and dominate his lover, offering such an affectionate gesture. Mari still gladly accepted it. If nothing else, it completed the mental image of the mystery stud who’d just given her such great sex. That, more than anything, made the fantasy feel truly complete.

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Jack Fisher’s Top Five Romance Comics

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I love comics. I love romance, too. When you put them together, it’s like putting bacon on pizza. It takes two inherently wonderful concepts and combines them, thereby compounding everything that makes them awesome.

I talk a lot about comics and romance. I’ve cited certain relationships that stand out in the current romantic landscape and praise certain comics that raise the bar for romance between superheroes. I think I’ve made the extent of my fondness for both fairly clear. Now, I’d like to offer some specifics.

For a while now, I’ve gotten comments and emails from people asking for recommendations of good romantic comics. I feel like I’ve contemplated this enough to craft a list of the comics I feel have the most to offer in terms of romance. While there are plenty of comics that cater specifically to romance, I’ve left those out in favor of those that offer a broader story that general comics fans can also appreciate.

What follows are my top five picks for the best romance comics. Please note that this is a personal list. I don’t wish to imply that this ranking is definitive. These are just my hand-picked comics that I feel offer the perfect blend of love and comic book level awesome.


Number 5: Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane

This sweet, fun little series from the mid-2000s is one of Marvel’s more underrated gems. There’s a lot of drama, angst, and frustration surrounding the romance between Spider-Man and Mary Jane Watson. I’ve cited some of the “complications” these two have endured on more than one occasion.

This series basically avoids all of that and doesn’t rely on elaborate retcons to do it. The story is less about Spider-Man and more about Mary Jane Watson. Specifically, it’s about a young, pre-supermodel Mary Jane Watson who hasn’t quite become the gold standard for sex redheaded comic book characters. That’s critical to what makes this series so great in terms of story and romance.

For once, Peter Parker being Spider-Man is secondary. That story is unfolding behind the scene, but the real drama comes directly from Mary Jane. She’s at an age where she’s blossoming into a beautiful young woman, but still figuring herself out. She’s not sure of what she wants, how to love, or where she fits into this crazy world. On every level, she’s far more relatable than any superhero.

As she navigates that world, she makes touch choices and even a few mistakes. More than anything else, though, this series shows how and why Mary Jane came to love Peter Parker so much. It doesn’t rely on overt sex appeal or excessive heroics. The story focuses entirely on chemistry and growth.

On paper, it sounds like something that shouldn’t work in a superhero comic, but it totally does. It’s a romance story that’s balanced and well-developed. It also isn’t too mature. Anyone from age 8 to 80 can appreciate the romance here. On top of that, Takeshi Miyazawa’s artwork is gorgeous, bringing light and heart to a romance that badly needs it.


Number 4: Rogue and Gambit

This is a very recent entry on my list, but one that did more than enough to justify its position. Over the course of five issues, “Rogue and Gambit” accomplished something extraordinary. It took a well-known romance that had been deconstructed, denigrated, and mishandled for years and effectively rebuilt it into something truly uncanny.

Kelly Thompson, one of Marvel’s rising stars, took the baggage surrounding the Rogue/Gambit relationship and channeled it in a way that felt both rewarding and sincere. It starts as an undercover mission, but evolves into some overdue couple’s therapy. Thompson doesn’t ignore all the factors that kept them apart. She even lets them argue and agonize over them.

In doing so, this series presents this romance as one you won’t find in any fairy tale. This isn’t a case of star-crossed lovers destined to be together. It’s a romance in which the two people involved have to really work at it. They have to confront their flaws, their failures, and all the excuses they’ve made to avoid their feelings. It gets ugly, but beautiful at the same time.

I would go so far as to cite this series a template for how a modern superhero romance can work, even without an iconic legacy. The Rogue/Gambit romance isn’t ideal, but that’s exactly what makes it so enjoyable and endearing. These are flawed characters who have both found themselves playing villainous roles at some point in their history. Them coming together despite all that just feels so right.

The only reason this series isn’t higher on my list is because it’s so recent. It’s also still evolving through a companion series, “Mr. and Mrs. X.” I’ve reviewed and praised that series too, but it wouldn’t be possible without this series. Whatever complications the Rogue/Gambit relationship faces in the future, this series will remain one of its most defining moments.


Number 3: The Adventures of Cyclops and Phoenix

I’ve made no secret of how much I love the romance between Cyclops and Jean Grey. I’ve cited them as one of those uniquely special relationships that is both iconic and balanced, a rare combination for a romance that has been unfolding for over 50 years now. While they’ve endured plenty of tribulations, complications, and retcons along the way, they remain iconic for a reason.

This series from the late 1990s is a testament to just how strong their romance can be when retcons, cosmic forces, and terrible love triangles are set aside. At their core, Cyclops and Jean Grey are two people don’t just want to love each other. They want to create a better world for their friends, their family, and their future children. They get to do all of that and then some here.

Much of the story takes place in one of the many dystopian futures that plague the X-men, namely one ruled by Apocalypse. It puts Cyclops and Jean in a position where they can’t fall back on their fellow X-men or the support of other superheroes. They have to navigate this wasteland of a world with only each other to fall back on. It’s a true testament to the strength of their relationship.

As the title implies, though, the story emphasizes the adventure more than the romance. While there are plenty of sweet moments between Cyclops and Jean, their relationship is not the primary focus. It’s certainly a factor driving them forward, but the meat of the story is how it drives them through the conflict. If you enjoy adventure with your romance, then this is definitely the series for you.


Number 2: Superman and Wonder Woman Volumes 1 and 2

Yes, I know Superman and Lois Lane are still considered the most iconic superhero couple of all time.

Yes, I know there’s an extremely vocal contingent of Superman fans that believe there’s something missing whenever he’s not with Lois.

No, I do not care. That’s because the run on this series by Charles Soule and Tony Daniel really raised the bar for just how great a romance can be for these two iconic characters.

There’s a lot I can say about the romantic potential between Superman and Wonder Woman. It would probably take me multiple blog posts and several essays to adequately describe what sets it apart from Superman’s relationship with Lois and why it works so beautifully. Thanks to this series, though, I don’t need to do that.

This particular series takes place during the controversial, but endearing New 52 era of DC Comics. During this strange, but amazing period of DC Comics, Superman and Lois aren’t married. They know each other, but they aren’t romantically involved. That opens the door for Superman to explore a relationship with Wonder Woman. However, this series makes clear that this romance is no gimmick.

They’re not forced together, nor is it presented as a gimmick. From the very beginning, as well as the events that led up to it, there’s a distinct sense that Superman and Wonder Woman find one another during tenuous times in their lives. They’re two powerful characters making their way through a world in which they feel isolated. When they’re together, though, they’re at their best.

This story brands them as a power couple and they do plenty to earn it. Together, they face threats from alien tyrants and renegade Greek gods. Their worlds collide, but they guide each other through. They make each other stronger. They make each other better. They fight as individuals and as equals. If that’s not the definition of a power couple, I don’t know what is.

Again, if you’re a die-hard supporter of Superman and Lois, that’s fine. This series does nothing to undercut that. However, it does plenty to prove that Superman and Wonder Woman can share a powerful romance, literally and figuratively. Even after DC has undergone extensive retcons and reboots, this series still captures the power of that romance in the best possible way.


Number 1: Saga

This is probably a controversial selection for those who aren’t familiar with this series. It doesn’t involve superheroes. It’s not a product of Marvel or DC Comics. It’s an entirely different world full of bizarre creatures that include talking cats, a humanoid seal, and an entire race of beings with TVs for heads. I swear I’m not making any of that up.

However, at the heart of this amazing series by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples is an amazing love story between two characters from warring worlds. That love is very much the driving force between all the conflict and the characters that get caught up in it. It’s one of those romances that has every conceivable force working against it, but it still happens and it’s downright beautiful

Alana and Marko aren’t Superman and Lois Lane. They’re not even Rogue and Gambit. They’re not exactly heroes trying to live up to an ideal. They’re soldiers in a war between two worlds, but they somehow find each other, fall in love, and create a family together.

It’s not a fairy tale romance, though. Their romance involves more than a few explicit sex scenes, as well as a scene where Alana gives birth to their daughter. Nothing is filtered or polished. The sexy and unsexy parts of their relationship is laid bare within a world that is full of fanciful characters and locales.

It’s a genuinely epic journey, but one that all comes back to the romance between Alana and Marko. No matter what kind of romantic you are, these two find a way to check the right boxes. There are many moments of passion, sorrow, and loss. There are also plenty of moments that are funny, cute, and endearing. It has everything a great romance needs and then some.

I should offer a fair warning, though. You will get attached to these characters. You will feel it during certain moments. As a self-professed romantic, I can safely say that it’s worth the risk.

There you have it! These are my top five selections for romance comics. I’m sure some will disagree with my selections. The list may even change as other great romance comics emerge in the coming years. That’s perfectly fine and I welcome any debates on my list.


Romance is in every medium and comics are no exception. I would even argue that the romance in comics is under-appreciated and under-valued. As the genre continues to evolve, I have a feeling that’ll change and I hope to be part of that change.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Marriage and Relationships, romance, sex in media, superhero comics, X-men