Tag Archives: love

Daily Sexy Musing: The Joy (And Danger) Of Thrill Sex

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Thrill sex is one of those kinky, yet subjective aspects of romance. What counts as thrilling for some may seem mundane to others. Some couples consider sex in a moving car on a busy highway as thrilling. Others consider sex outside a police station in broad daylight as thrilling. Both can get the job done. One just carries more risk/danger than others.

When I was in high school, the pinnacle of thrill sex involved couples who did it in their parents’ bedroom while they were home. I can see how that would be thrilling to hormonal teenagers, but it’s one of those situational thrills that depends heavily on circumstance. Some parents may get incensed by the idea. Some may end up reacting with shotguns.

As subjective it can be, thrill sex is one of those special manifestations of intimacy that even non-romantics can appreciate. It doesn’t have to be overtly dangerous. It just has to mix things up in a way that carries risk beyond strangers seeing your genitals. The following Daily Sexy Musing is a celebration of the diverse appeal of thrill sex. For all those adventurous couples out there, I hope it gives you some ideas. Enjoy!

When I’m around you, I want you. I crave your loving, intimate touch. It’s not just a desire. It’s a need, as necessary as air or food. I can tell you want me too. I can feel it every time your gaze undresses me wholly.

Most of the time, we manage that urge. However, there are times when it cannot be managed, nor should it. Within those moments, a private dwelling and a warm bed aren’t always available. Sometimes, they’re not even sufficient. These are the times when we need something more.

To hell with closed doors.

To hell with safe domains.

To hell with modest restraint.

To hell with anything that dare hides our passion.

I take your hand and you take mine. Together, we seek a setting fraught with risk and danger. The thought, alone, gets our hearts racing. The rush mixes with desire, every lurid inclination amplified like gasoline on a fire. As the need burns hotter, our effort grows bolder.

Maybe we’ll do it in the bathroom of an airplane as it flies over an ocean.

Maybe we’ll do it near the edge of a cliff overlooking a canyon.

Maybe we’ll do it in the woods where hungry animals dwell.

Maybe we’ll do it in your father’s garage while he’s cleaning his guns.

It doesn’t matter where, when, or how. I want you so much. I seek to demonstrate that love, physically and passionately. I don’t care if the whole world sees us in our lurid glory. I want everyone to know the breadth of our love. I want them to marvel and gasp at how well we express it.

The danger doesn’t dissuade us. If anything, it further excites us. Clothes become a burden. Flesh becomes hot with urgency. We seek out that which repels lovers less bold than us. We pity the limits of their passion while celebrating our own.

Finally, we find that special place.

We secure that special moment.

We’re surrounded by danger, inviting great embarrassment and real harm. We don’t care. Our love and passion overshadows all of that.

From that great risk comes greater reward. In that moment of palpable peril, our love becomes more than love. It becomes a true thrill.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Ode Sexy Doctors

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Doctors are sexy on a fundamental level. I think most people agree with that to some extent. Men are drawn to sexy nurses. Women are drawn the smart, charismatic doctors that George Clooney and Hugh Laurie helped make famous. It’s not just some niche genre for porn or romance novels. There’s genuine sensual undertones to someone who heals others.

I believe it predates George Clooney. Go back to any point in history. If you had the skills and knowledge to heal someone, then you didn’t just provide a valuable service to your community. You had something that made you genuinely attractive. Someone who can heal and treat illness is objectively useful. Being useful is the first step towards being sexy.

Doctors, regardless of gender, are capable of eliciting all sorts of emotions from people. When we’re sick, we’re at our most vulnerable. We trust in our doctors to treat us and heal us. That kind of trust can take on some very intimate connotations. It can even lead to the famous Florence Nightingale trope where patients and doctors fall in love.

Given how our health and survival are so closely linked, we’re always going to have a more intimate connection with those who can heal us. The following Daily Sexy Musing is an ode to those uniquely intimate feelings we have towards those who tend to us when we’re ill. Enjoy!

My body failed me. I am at its mercy, weighed down by pain, fatigue, and weakness. I’m not just ill. I am vulnerable. I have the will to survive, but not the strength. I fight to overcome, but it’s not enough. I need a healing hand. Specifically, I need your loving touch.

You heed my call.

You come to my aid.

You console my wounded state.

Like an angel answering a prayer, you impart your skill unto me.

As I lay sick and suffering, you work your healing magic, tending to me and treating me. You describe my ailment with such knowledge and certainty, speaking a language that only a select few understand. It’s like you see beyond the surface of my flesh, finding the flaws and fixing them.

You brave pained cries and foul moods, undeterred by disease and distress. Instead of aversion, you feel compassion. Your heart is strong and your spirit is stronger. You don’t just confront the death and disease that attacks life on all sides. You fight it head on.

In that battle, you slay the beast.

Through that struggle, I am healed.

From my weakest moment, I regain my strength.

For that, I am in your debt. However, I seek more than simply repayment. You understand what it means to heal, but underestimate the greater effect. I was at your mercy. I was at the mercy of everyone and everything around me. You could’ve done anything to me and I would’ve been helpless.

Even so, you healed me.

Even so, you comforted me.

Of all the things you could’ve done, you did what was best for me.

Now, thanks to you, my spirit and my vigor have returned. In you, I see a compassionate heart and a capable soul. Around you, I don’t just feel safe. I feel stronger. With you, I want to share that strength. My body, now free of illness, is ready to connect once more.

You came to me when I was weak.

Now, I come to you when I’m strong.

Together, we celebrate our health.

Our hearts beat together. Our bodies become entwined. You are my doctor, the keeper of my health. I am your patient, the catalyst for your soul. As one, the spark of life burns brightest.

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The Stigma Of Being Single (Especially If You’re A Man)

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Picture, for a moment, a single woman in her mid-30s with no kids. What’s the image that comes to mind? For most people, especially those who watch sitcoms or have seen one episode of “Sex In The City,” a certain narrative plays out that helps shape that picture.

The woman is probably not a supermodel, nor could she be mistaken for Sarah Jessica Parker. She probably has a stable career. She probably has her own money, a tight social circle, and a fair amount of independence. She likely has a few hobbies and passions outside her career. Even if she isn’t in a relationship, it’s easy to imagine her being happy with her situation.

The fact that she’s single wouldn’t raise many red flags. That said, there are some stigmas associated with being single at a certain age for women. There’s still this misguided notion that women who are single at that age have somehow come up short in life. Every woman has different reasons for being single. By and large, though, we tend to have sympathy for women who stay single.

Now, picture a single man in his mid-30s with no kids. What image comes to mind in that instance? Chances are it’s not the same as that picture you imagined of a single woman. A single man in his mid-30s probably won’t inspire mental pictures of Channing Tatum. Hell, it probably won’t even inspire pictures of Jonah Hill.

A single man in his mid-30s with no kids will likely raise more red flags than the woman. It’s not just that the man is struggling to forge a meaningful relationship. He’s not just unlucky in love. There’s something wrong with him. A man like that must be a creep to some extent. He must have some sort of shortcoming or deficiency that repulses the opposite sex.

Maybe he has unhealthy hobbies.

Maybe he has a short temper and abusive tendencies.

Maybe he’s just a lazy slob who doesn’t even try.

It’s still entirely possible that a single man in his 30s is just content being single. He doesn’t feel inclined to pursue a relationship at the moment. He’s healthy, relatively attractive, and contributes positively to society. He’s not opposed to being in a relationship, but not just for the sake of being with someone.

No matter how common that possibility is, though, that’s probably not the first assumption you would make if all you knew about a man was that he’s over 30 and single. Even though marriage rates are declining, there’s still a stigma associated with being single beyond a certain age. It exists for women and men, but the stigma is more pronounced for men.

There’s no getting around it. A single man in his mid-30s is going to evoke a different reaction. It’s not a double standard like some of the others I’ve cited. It’s just the byproduct of different expectations and assumptions. I know this better than most because I’m a single man in my mid-30s with no kids and I’ve witnessed some of these reactions.

It’s subtle, but noticeable. When I tell someone I’m single and in my 30s, I get this weird look. If the person doesn’t know me very well, I get the sense they’re a little concerned. Once they learn that about me, I suspect they think that’s creepy or odd. There have been times when I’ve seen people, mostly women, get uncomfortable when they learn I’m over 30 and single.

There was even one instance where a woman at a store asked if I was gay. That really caught me off-guard, but it was the first time when I really felt the stigma of being single. I laughed it off at the time and so did the woman. However, when I later recalled the incident, I felt genuinely anxious about my status. I worry that it will undermine my ability to find love in the future.

I’ve even seen it among relatives. While most of my family don’t make a big deal out of it, there are a few who express concern about me. They see my age and my relationship status as a problem to be solved. I can understand that sentiment. I even appreciate it because I know it comes from sincere concern. Even so, I still feel the stigma on some levels.

I know I’m not alone in that. As much progress as we’ve made in society, with respect to tolerating non-traditional relationships, there’s still this over-arching sentiment that being single is a deficiency. It’s not so much a choice as it is an excuse. When it’s less subtle, it can be downright demeaning. It takes many forms, but often carries similar themes.

Your standards are too high.

You’re not a desirable companion.

You’re too high-maintenance and clingy.

You’re past your prime.

You’ve got little to offer.

I’ve seen this levied at women and men. I know women who get very combative when someone tries to figure out why they’re not in a relationship after a certain age. I honestly don’t blame them, but I’ve seen those same women get plenty of sympathy. Even when they make excuses, men and women alike will offer them support when they need it.

As a man, though, I feel like I can’t get away with that. If I were as apprehensive as some of the women I’ve known, I wouldn’t get a lick of sympathy. If anything, I would be scorned. Men would look down at me as desperate and whiny. Woman would look down on me as pathetic and weak. None of those traits warrant much sympathy or support.

On some levels, I  understand why being single is stigmatized. For society to grow, it needs people to get together, forge close society bonds, and creature stable families. People who remain single aren’t contributing to that growth and stigma is just one way of incentivizing them to try harder, even if it creates distressing taboos.

I can also understand why the stigma is more pronounced in men. Like it or not, men tend to commit more crime. Men who lack the influence of a stabilizing relationship tend to cause more deviance and there’s even some research to back that up. It’s one of those instances where a particular prejudice has some statistics behind it.

However, statistics rarely tell the entire story. More often than not, they leave out critical details. In my case, the primary factor that has influenced my single status is a desire not to be with someone just for the sake of being with someone. I’ve seen more than one person fall into the trap of being with someone who is totally wrong for them, but stays with them to avoid being single.

I don’t want that for myself. I want any relationship I have, be it romantic or platonic, to be for the right reasons. Being single hasn’t made me feel more inclined to commit crime or do something deviant. It’s a reasonable choice that I made for myself and I don’t regret it. That doesn’t make it any less frustrating when other people make misguided assumptions about why I’m single.

I’ve met women who’ve made similar choices. I’ve also known plenty more who are single for different, but understandable reasons. They’re not selfish predators who are just holding out to marry a prince who will love them, cater to their every need, and be their personal pocketbook. There are women like that, but they’re the annoyingly loud exception and not the norm.

When it comes to being single, the lingering stigma feels like a very small battle in a much larger war involving gender, society, and politics. As a self-professed romantic, I’m all for encouraging people to find love and forge relationship. It’s a beautiful thing and I feel like that same stigma undermines the beauty.

On top of that, it shoves yet another wedge between men and women when we already have too many of those. We’ve steadily moved away from the notion that an unmarried woman at a certain age must either be a widow, a prostitute, or a nun. There’s still room for improvement, but we’re steadily making progress in empowering people to find their way, regardless of whether they’re single.

At the same time, a man remaining single is not prone to as much scrutiny as we’ve seen in in the past. There are still assumptions and anxieties that are uniquely associated with single men. Regardless of whether single men or single women have it worse, I feel as though one part of the stigma is being addressed while the other is being overlooked.

Like it or not, this is going to be an increasingly relevant issue. As women stay single for longer, there are going to be more single men. That’s just basic math. The desire to find someone special won’t go away anytime soon. The stigma is just making it more difficult and a lot less romantic.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Handyman Sex Appeal

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Let’s face it. No matter how many high-tech gadgets we have in our lives, they’re going to break at some point. Whether it’s our cell phones or our toilets, it’s inevitable. Things break, no matter how complicated or simple they are. That just makes the people who repair them an integral part of our lives.

They often go overlooked and underappreciated. However, whenever something we value stops working, we depend on them to get the job done. When the eventually do fix something for us, we’re not just relieved. We’re astonished by them. Sometimes, that astonishment can have a very sensual connotation.

I’ve seen this happen more than once. Women see a man who can fix things and they find that genuinely attractive. Some may call it shallow, being attracted to someone on the basis of what they can do for them. That doesn’t make the feeling less real. It can get pretty intense too. When someone does something that inherently valuable for you, a part of you is going to want to thank them in a way beyond paying a repair bill.

The following Daily Sexy Musing is a testament to the handymen and handywomen who keep our complicated world working. Their sex appeal is underrated and worth celebrating. Think of that the next time you need something fixed. That person who can fix it for you might just end up being the sexiest person in the world. Enjoy!

Something breaks.

My world stops.

I try and a I fail to remedy it.

Then, I call you and you respond. I watch as you toil with things I cannot comprehend, tweaking and tinkering in ways I do not dare. You get down on your knees. You get your hands, face, and body so dirty. I feel dirty just watching you, but in the best possible way.

You speak with such knowledge and insight. You give me answers that seemed so distant. I learn from you what I did wrong or didn’t know to do in the first place. It’s humbling. Under your expertise, I feel smaller. As you speak, I feel like I’m looking up at a titan, one with the knowledge and skill to right the wrongs in my world.

These things that I rely on are my weakest link. Your ability to fix them turns that weakness into a strength. With you, I am no longer vulnerable. Together, we are equipped to use the best tools to overcome the greatest challenges. To be with you is to be so much more than my resources.

I have things you don’t have.

You have skills I don’t possess.

Together, we have it all.

When the work is done, the burden is lifted. My world continues, but it’s not enough to go back to the way things were. I seek to make things better and more robust. For that, I need your expertise. For you, I’m willing to offer my heart and so much more.

I reach out to you, not minding the dirt and toil still clinging to your hands. I embrace you, not minding the sweat and grime that your hard work has compiled. If anything, it excites me. Your skill with those hands makes me want to share some skills of my own. Driven by gratitude and grace, I have every incentive to get the job done, just like you.

You fixed my things.

I welcome you into my world.

Together, we forge an unbreakable passion.

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“Wake-Up Call” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about waking up in the morning in the best possible way. Enjoy!

“Hey Rachel! Are you awake yet?” asked a humored, but restless Dan Ayan.

He got no response. He didn’t expect one, either. Rachel, his wife of the past two years, just laid there comfortably in bed, snoring lightly as though the morning sun weren’t blaring through the window. It always amazed him, her ability to sleep so heavily after getting to bed so late, but he’d come to appreciate it over the years.

“Out like a light on a Wednesday morning,” Dan said, shaking his head. “You just love making this difficult for me, don’t you?”

Again, she didn’t respond. He thought he knew what it meant to be a heavy sleeper. Rachel raised the bar for all of them.

He’d known that about her since they started dating back in college. Her reputation for deep sleep was the stuff of legend. Her old roommate once said she slept through a fire drill and through an actual fire when a neighbor set a couch on fire. Her brother claimed she’d slept through her car alarm going off at five in the morning during a thunderstorm, which got her in trouble with the neighbors.

Dan didn’t doubt any of those stories, even if they were exaggerated. Rachel even warned him about that on their second date. He didn’t think it would be that big a deal as their relationship evolved. He’d since learned that dealing with her heavy sleeping habits meant adapting in creative ways.

“Fine,” Dan said. “You’re not going to get up in time for work? I’ll just have to take drastic measures.”

Feeling extra bold, having already had his morning cup of coffee, Dan crawled up onto the king-sized bed they shared and stealthily pulled back the covers. Even though part of it had been under her arms, Rachel still didn’t wake up. The blaring sunlight coming in through the windows illuminated the red nightie she wore the previous night. It also revealed that she wasn’t wearing any panties.

“You sneaky little minx, you,” he chuckled. “You probably planned this.”

That might have been half-true. It wasn’t unusual for Rachel to ditch panties when she slept, especially during the summer. She’d also worked late yesterday and might have just forgot to wear them. He didn’t always remember to wear underwear when he came home late, but he knew his wife well enough to sense when she went out of her way to forget.

“Okay then,” Dan said, licking his lips in anticipation. “If that’s the wake-up call you want, this morning…so be it.”

Being the considerate, caring husband he was, Dan shed his bathrobe and positioned himself just under his sleeping wife. Like an animal sneaking up on its prey, he inched his way closer to her exposed womanhood that her nighty so poorly hid. As soon as he got close enough to smell its heavenly scent, Dan went to rousing her from her deep slumber.

He was subtle at first, using his soft fingers to lightly stroke the outer folds of her crevice. Having come to know her anatomy so well, he slipped a finger into her vagina while lightly rubbing her clit. That finally got her to stir somewhat, but she remained fast asleep. That meant he had to step up his efforts.

More than willing to rise to the challenge – and on a weekday, no less – he leaned in closer and guided his tongue over her outer womanhood. Then, with one finger still on her clit, he took the proverbial plunge and tasted her tender flesh.

Finally, Rachel emerged from her deep sleep.

“Ooh!” she moaned. “Oh yeah!”

“Good morning sunshine,” Dan said through a muffled voice.

He further roused her by probing deeper, pushing his tongue into the wet recesses of her pussy. He made it a point to stimulate those well-hidden nerves that were so hard to reach, getting an even deeper whiff of her womanly heat in the process. It was almost as intoxicating as a morning cup of coffee, but much more rewarding.

“Oohhh! Good morning, indeed!” she cooed.

She didn’t sound that drowsy anymore, but her body still got ahead of her mind. As Dan continued his oral teasing, Rachel rolled from her side and onto her back. She then spread her legs widely, hitching them over his shoulders so that he had unobstructed access to her lower anatomy. He made good use of it, holding onto her thighs as he worked his tongue with greater intensity.

More moans followed, the kind that affirmed she was fully awake. That had been his goal, getting her out of bed before she slept in too late on a weekday. However, between his morning cup of coffee and the taste of his love’s pussy, Dan soon found himself getting aroused. Being a morning person, he experienced more “morning wood” than most men. It used to be a nuisance. Since he’d been with Rachel, it proved quite useful.

“Glad you’re awake,” Dan said, briefly looking up from her inner thighs. “If you want, I could let you get ready. Or if you need more rousing…”

Rachel didn’t let him finish. She already had that glint in her eye that let him know how their morning would play out.

“Don’t stop, Dan,” she said intently. “You know what I need…and I know what you need too.”

Showing the kind of certainty and sex appeal that shouldn’t have been possible so early on a Wednesday morning, Rachel rose up and shed her nighty, revealing those perky breasts of hers that Dan loved to admire. Then, her naked body glowing beautifully in the morning sun, she pulled him up and kissed him passionately, not even minding the trace of feminine juices dripping down his face.

Her capacity for horniness so early in the morning never ceased to astonish him. If there were a female equivalent to morning wood, Rachel definitely had it. She must have had some extra-naughty dreams too because her eagerness for a more intimate wake-up call left her very aroused. Already feeling excessive tightness in his briefs, Dan shed his underwear and got on top of her.

“Still drowsy, Mrs. Ayan?” he teased.

“Well, Mr. Ayan, I haven’t had my coffee yet,” she joked, “but a little dick will certainly help!”

With a playful grin, Dan gave her the extensive wake-up call she needed. Still holding onto her thighs, he positioned himself over her, his erect cock aligned with her moist entrance. He could feel the extent of her arousal as he rubbed the tip up against her outer folds. Ignoring the prospect of being late for work, he thrust his hips forward and entered his wife’s waiting depths. Under the warmth of the morning sun, they began making love.

“Oh Dan!” Rachel moaned. “That…that helps! That helps a lot!”

“Mmm…speak for yourself,” he quipped in a deep, manly tone.

His knees and feet dug into the bed as he worked his dick inside her, humping her in that steady, thorough rhythm he knew she loved. Rachel was the kind of woman who liked it rough on some occasions and gentle in others. For an early-morning wake-up call, a little of both was necessary.

Dan eagerly delivered, soaking in that warm, intimate feeling of hot sex with his wife. Their naked bodies moved and grinded together, his pelvis smacking against hers after each thrust. Rachel did her part as well, holding onto his shoulders and pulling him into a passionate kiss. Moans and grunts filled the room, all traces of grogginess replaced with pure bliss.

Following the pleasure and passion, Dan stepped up the pace, working his member harder and faster within his lover’s depths. He felt her inner muscles tighten harder with every motion, her gasps becoming more vocal as well. It was almost funny. A few minutes ago, she was fast asleep. Now, she was on the brink of orgasm.

“I’m close, Dan!” she gasped, her chin digging into his shoulder. “I’m so…so close.”

“Might as well get an early start,” he said with a manly grin.

Burying his face in her neck, Dan maintained the heated pace of lovemaking. He tightened his grip on her hips, giving them a firm squeeze as he pushed her to the brink. After a few more thorough movements, he sent her over the edge and into a world of ecstasy.

“Oohhh yes!” she exclaimed.

It was sweet music to his ears, far better than any blaring alarm clock. He steadied his movements so that his wife could take in her orgasm. Her body shuddered, her lower back arched, and her nails dug deep into his shoulders as the pleasure surged through her. Rachel was always so animated when she climaxed, as if to let her lover know that they achieved something special. Dan, being an overachiever by nature, had a special appreciation for such sexy quirks.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re up now,” he whispered into his lover’s ear.

“I am…almost,” Rachel replied, still panting heavily.

Then, in an outburst of energy that would’ve surprised any self-proclaimed morning person, Rachel kissed him passionately once more and rolled him over so that he was the on his back. His member never left her pussy, still surrounded by her throbbing wet flesh. He was still hard and in need of his own release. Dan doubted that need would go unmet.

“I know you’re awake,” she teased, “but are you energized, my love?”

“Well, I wasn’t feeling that groggy, but…”

Again, she didn’t wait for him to finish and Dan didn’t bother. Rachel had already begun riding his cock, digging her knees and feet into the bed while holding onto his torso for leverage. With strength indicative of someone who’d gotten good night’s rest, she moved her hips, working her pussy along the length of his dick. Dan, his hands still on her hips, just laid back and watched as his wife made love to him in the early morning sun.

It was a beautiful sight, enough to get any man energized for the day. She’d trusted him to wake her up from her exceedingly deep sleep. He trusted her to acknowledge his efforts in the sexiest way possible. Once again, she delivered.

“Just like that! Just…like that!” he grunted. “Rachel…I’m almost…there!”

“That’s it, my love!” she told him. “Enjoy…your morning…sex!”

Still riding him hard, she grabbed his wrists and guided his hands to her bouncing breasts. Dan instinctively squeezed them as she delivered the last round of movements, sending him to the brink and beyond, as only she could. The feeling that followed reaffirmed why he was such a morning person.

“Oohhh yeah!” Dan moaned, mirroring his wife’s ecstasy from earlier.

He strengthened his grip on her as he felt a surge of pleasure wash over him. The heat of the morning sun mixed with the heat of white-hot bliss, rippling through every fiber of his being. He let out a deep, masculine grunt as his muscles tensed and his manhood throbbed. Thick streams of manly fluid shot up into his love’s depths, mixing with her feminine juices.

Dan felt his love’s tender gaze every step of the way. She enjoyed seeing him in ecstasy as much as he enjoyed seeing her. She even got a little playful with it, leaning over and trailing her fingers up his chest as she kissed around his unshaven neck. In his blissful daze, he embraced her affectionately and returned the gesture.

“Okay, I’m convinced now. You’re officially awake,” Dan said jokingly.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” she laughed. “Thanks for being extra sure. I don’t mean to be such a heavy sleeper.”

“I believe you,” he replied, “about as much as I believe why you rarely wear panties to bed.”

“Hey, it’s not weird if it works.”

“I guess the results speak for themselves.”

They both shared a round of laughter. He then kissed her again. While Dan would’ve loved to just lay in bed for a while with his naked wife, they had jobs to get to and lives to live. The day was just beginning, but some hot, early-morning sex made for a promising start.

“Well, I better get cleaned up and dressed,” Rachel said as their naked bodies finally parted.

“Sounds good,” said Dan as he got up with her. “I’ll put on some more coffee while you shower.”

“Coffee, a shower, and hot sex…that’s a hell of a wake-up call.”

“Can you think of a better way to start your day?”

“Nope!”

 

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Daily Sexy Musing: The Joy (And Sexiness) Of Laughter

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When it comes to laughter, the appeal is universal. It transcends culture, geography, and time periods. Whether you’re a hipster in New York or a serf in medieval Russia, a good laugh goes a long way towards making your day a little better. Laughter is one of the few universal joys we can all appreciate. At the same time, it has underrated sex appeal.

Think about the reasons people often give for being attracted to someone. At some point, even if they’re strikingly beautiful or ridiculously well-endowed, they do something that makes them laugh. Laughter makes you feel good. We tend to gravitate towards people who make us feel those things. It’s one of the simplest forms of attraction.

It can go beyond attraction, though. Laughter can make someone feel good, but it has limits. In the right circumstances, it can act as a romantic appetizer. Making them laugh gives them a taste of just how happy you can make them. If they like it enough, then they’ll want more and from there, things tend to get intimate for all the right reasons.

When done right, laughter can make you downright sexy. You don’t have to be a comedian. You just have to know how to strike the right chords. From there, things get easier and sexier. The following Daily Sexy Musing is a testament to the more intimate side of laughter. Whether it involves a dirty joke or a bad pun, it can go a long way towards setting the mood.

We talk all the time. I know you so well and you know me. I can say so little, but convey so much. Our love is like a language and only we are fluent. With it, we can say so much. This time, however, I choose to be brief.

I smile and relax, taking the poise of someone not attempting to tickle your heart or loins. We start talking. Then, I say it. I make a very remark, one with a very specific purpose. I’m no longer attempting. I know what I’m doing. I seek only one immediate reaction.

It happens. You laugh and I laugh with you. That is just the beginning.

Everything feels lighter, now. The serious matters of the day fall to the wayside. We smile gleefully, oblivious to inanities or absurdities. You drift in closer to me. You like that feeling. I like it too. However, I know it’s not enough.

As you enter my embrace, you’re still smiling. It’s a beautiful sight. Seeing you happy makes me even happier. It also motivates me. I want to feed that feeling. I want to be the one who can give it to you. If I’m to be your lover, it is a skill I must master. To master it, though, I must practice.

I lean in closer.

I whisper into your ear.

I utter more words that I know will trigger a reaction.

Again, you laugh and I laugh with you. This time, there is more. I can feel it in the way you hold me. You’re so happy. I have captivated you with my wit and humor. Your jovial spirit ignites my heart and sparks my desires. I now seek more than just a smile.

As we laugh, I draw you into a kiss.

As we laugh, I guide you to a more intimate setting.

As we laugh, our clothes become a burden that must be lifted.

As we laugh, we follow one another to greater feats of bliss.

It doesn’t need setup. It requires no riches or resources of any kind. Only a sharp wit, a wry sense of humor, and an eagerness to see happiness in love is necessary. It starts with a laugh, but ends with so much more.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Celebrating Role Playing

officer-role-play

Role playing is one of those rare activities that is either too kinky or not kinky enough. As someone who has dressed up for the New York Comic Con before and met many amazing cos-player, I have a special appreciation for those who dress up and embrace a unique role. It doesn’t always have to be of a sexual nature, but it definitely has sexual potential.

When done right, it can be pretty damn sexy and a lot of fun. Not every intimate activity has to channel the romantic intensity of a Shakespearean play or a “Twilight” novel. It can just be two people having fun in their own unique way. That way doesn’t always have to include being who you’ve always been. It’s okay to channel a role very different from your usual persona.

You don’t have to be an actor. You don’t have to be a self-professed nerd or a theater guru. You and your lover just have to have a desire to mix things up and let yourself go. The following Daily Sexy Musing is both a celebration and an encouragement of the sexier parts of role playing. I hope it inspires people and their lovers, among other things. Enjoy!

We come home after a long, hard day. We’re tired, but restless. For hours on end, we do our part and carry out every task. It’s not always rewarding. Sometimes, it’s downright thankless. That makes what we’re about to do both desirable and necessary.

Behind closed doors, shrouded by curtains and blinds, we shed the persona that helps us function in the outside world. The weight, restraints, and shackles disappear. Finally, we’re free. We can cut loose. Alone, we can find certain reprieve. Together, we can do so much more.

I can be a secret agent, seducing a fellow spy.

I can be a cop enticing a sexy suspect.

I can be a hero receiving a special reward from my grateful bystander.

I can be more than just your lover. At the same time, you can be more than the world allows you to be. Imagine who you want to be and what you wish you could do. Create, in your mind, the most fanciful scenes that heightens your passions and heart. For you, I gladly submit to your whims.

You can be a strict disciplinarian and I can be your deviant pupil.

You can be a charismatic leader and I can be your loyal follower.

You can be the one who acts or the one acted upon.

You can be whatever and whoever you want to be.

The possibilities are endless, bound only by imagination and energy. In this moment, we have plenty of both. Together, we secure a space. We create a scene. I accept my role and you accept yours. One moment, we are just two lovers in a private domain. The next, we are someone and somewhere else entirely.

I am more than your lover.

You are more than mine.

Together, we whisk one another away into a world of fantasy. We leave our limits behind, but carry our desires with us. We act out every moment, ignoring time and constraint. We need not closer our eyes. We need only abandon the grip of reality. The stakes of passion rise, as do the rewards. Through both, our love becomes an adventure.

Like every adventure, we complete a journey. In doing so, we fulfill our role to the utmost.

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