Tag Archives: love

“My Favorite Client” A Sexy Short Story (For Memorial Day)

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The following is a sexy short story that was partially inspired by some real-life anecdotes about men coping with loss with the help of sex workers. A good portion of those stories came from men who had served in the military and in the spirit of Memorial Day, I wanted to capture the beauty of those experiences.

Whether you’re a veteran or just someone who has had to find ways to cope with loss, I hope you can appreciate this. Enjoy!

“The first Thursday of the month,” Reyna Stanly said to herself, “the best day of any month in my otherwise fucked up life.”

The young woman carried herself with more energy than usual and for good reason. It was a welcome day of contentment, especially for a professional escort. As someone who lived a life of ever-evolving risks and obstacles, she understood the value of those days better than most. After the week she’d endured, she needed one.

Having arrived at the mid-level hotel a half-hour ago, Reyna made her way up to the eighth-floor suite, as she’d done many times before. She wore the same low-cut black dress that she’d worn for the past several encounters with the special client that awaited her at the end of the hall. It wasn’t too sexy. Most people who saw it wouldn’t associate it with an escort or sex worker. Walking through the lobby, she looked like someone on her way to a dinner party at an overpriced restaurant.

Compared to what most clients asked her to wear, it was a welcome touch style. It made her feel like she was playing a role rather than providing a service. For the client that awaited her – a very special, very important client that she’d come to cherish – she took great pride in playing that role. It meant almost as much as her as it did to him.

“If only everyone in my life appreciated my dedication as much as you, Willie,” Reyna sighed as she approached the door.

As she prepared for the not-so-typical job before her, she lamented that the most decent male role model in her life was someone she’d met while escorting. It would’ve been hilarious if it weren’t true, but from where she came from, role models were hard to come by.

Her father had walked out on her mother and sister when she was six. After that, her mother went onto date a string of loser guys, eventually marrying one who could help pay off her gambling debts. It hadn’t been out of the goodness of his heart, though. That man, who she still refused to call her father, only kept her out of debt so she wouldn’t give him any crap out about cheating on her.

Her older sister followed a similar path, attracting all the wrong men before marrying the one who got her pregnant in high school, albeit after some heated coaxing. Theirs was not a stable marriage, to say the least. They fought more than they loved, cheated on each other so often that Reyna could practically set her watch to it. She escaped that environment the first chance she got.

However, her judgement hadn’t been that much better than her mother or sister. In high school, she’d played the part of the class slut, hooking up with multiple men and having a long string of empty relationships. Most of that was her way of staying away from home, but it came at the price of attracting men who cared more about easy sex than genuine intimacy. Whether by bad luck or family tradition, Reyna and her family never seemed to cross paths with the kind of men who were worth loving.

“Guess that’s more my fault than yours,” she said under her breath, lingering at the door as she checked her phone. “You were just looking to mend a broken heart. I was looking for easy money. Now, here I am…needing you as much as you need me.”

It was tragic, but oddly fitting. She’d gone most of her life knowing few good men. Then, she left home, got into a local college, and started making her own money as an escort with the goal of never having to rely on a man. Willie Mavin didn’t necessarily derail that goal, but he certainly complicated it and for all the right reasons.

As she knocked on the door, Reyna felt like needed to affirm those reasons. Having had so many poor influences on her, she had to cling to the few good ones she still had.

“Come in,” said the familiar voice from inside the room.

Smiling for the first time all week, Reyna entered the room and into her role. At that moment, she was no longer Reyna Stanly, the trashy young woman who made her living as a whore for men with no time for a mistress. She became Mandi, the affectionate young woman who reminded a lonely man of better times.

“Mandi,” said a tall, lanky, middle-aged figure sitting on the bed, “you’re as stunning as ever.”

“You’re too kind, Willie…way too kind,” she replied in a voice that blurred the lines between fantasy and reality.

Upon closing the door behind her, making sure to lock it and place the “do not disturb” tag on the handle, she set aside her purse and made her way to king size bed where her favorite client awaited her.

“I’ve missed you,” she told him, mixing the traditional script of an escort with honest sentiment. “You make the first Thursday of every month something I look forward to.”

“So do you,” said Willie as he gazed at her with that loving admiration.

“This past month has been especially tough. I need this as much as you do.”

“I believe you.”

She’d heard that from men before, pretending they could empathize with her plight. She rarely believed it, especially from clients. However, Reyna made an exception for Willie.

She also made an exception when it came to embracing a client. She didn’t just stand in front of him, posing like a model in hopes of tempting him into paying for another hour. She immediately joined him on the bed, slipping into his arms and sitting on his lap. She barely even noticed the empty envelope containing her payment on the nightstand. Willie never short-changed her or abused her trust. Very few men in her life could make such a claim.

“You seem tense, Mandi,” he said as he slipped an arm around her waist and caressed her face. “Is everything alright?”

“It is now,” Reyna replied with a reassuring smile. “Try not to worry about me. I’m here for you, remember?”

“You make that difficult to forget,” Willie said as he smiled back.

“Then, I must be doing my part exceptionally well.”

“You do more than that, Mandi…much more.”

He embraced her closer, holding her as he would a cherished lover. He was so affectionate and tender, kissing her neck and taking in her scent, which she’d augmented with her best perfume. It was enough to get her heart racing as she returned his affection, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him deeper into her intimate warmth.

Reyna knew how it must have looked from an outside perspective. Anyone observing them at that moment wouldn’t have seen anything other than a tall, slender man in his late 40s with graying hair holding a young female escort in her early 20s. It had all the qualities of a typical encounter between a sex worker and an older man. She wouldn’t have blamed anyone for seeing it as anything other than some guy wanting to get frisky with a cute young woman.

However, there was much more at work than a man willing to pay for sex and a woman willing to accept money for it. Some of it showed in the clothes he wore. Like her, Willie wore the attire that evoked his fondest memories. That included a neatly-pressed dress shirt with military emblems, a clip-on tie, and navy-blue slacks that had just been dry cleaned the other day. It gave him the presence of a man who knew how to take care of himself and valued how he presented himself to others.

He’d learned that skill in the military and still carried himself like an honorable, disciplined soldier. That kind of ability and self-respect did plenty to set Willie apart, but those were just the most obvious qualities she admired. The rest ran much deeper.

“This week has been especially lonely,” Willie said after he finished kissing er. “It would’ve been our wedding anniversary on Monday. My son tried to visit so we could spend some time together, but his flight got cancelled.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Reyna said. “I hope he makes it up to you.”

“He will. He’s a good young man, just like his brother. I’m not worried about him. I’m just focused on you…on us.”

“And I intend to do nothing less.”

True to her word, a trait any competent escort valued, Reyna dove deeper into her role. Caressing his unshaven face with both hands, she kissed him with a soft, but sensual passion on the lips.

It was not the kind of kiss she shared with other clients. It was genuine and loving, akin to something a dear lover would give to someone who they’d missed. Almost immediately, it had an impact. She sensed his tension settle. The rugged, manly musk of her breath helped her settle too.

“My darling, Mandi,” Willie gasped with an intensity few men dared to show, even with an escort.

Her heart skipped a beat. She still wasn’t used to that, especially with a client. Reyna wasn’t sure she wanted to get used to it. The way Willie held her and the way he kissed her triggered something in her that she didn’t think she could feel for a man, even before she became an escort.

As the kiss deepened, those feelings intensified. Before long, a kiss was no longer sufficient.

“Willie…sweetheart,” Reyna said, now deep into her Mandi persona.

“Yes, Mandi?” he replied, already breathless.

With a coy grin and the taste of his lips still lingering, she broke the embrace and turned around so that he could see the back of her dress.

“Would you please unzip me?” she asked him. “This dress feels so…burdensome.”

“Of course, my dear,” Willie replied without hesitation.

Like a gentleman, he did as she requested, unzipping her dress with the utmost care. He wasn’t like some horny guy eager to get a girl naked. He was so careful, highlighting every inch of newly exposed flesh.

Once he reached the bottom of the dress, she stood up and let it fall off her body. In doing so, Reyna revealed she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Upon stepping out of her dress, kicking off her heels in the process, the only article of clothing she had left was a pair of black lace panties. When she turned around, giving him a perfect view of her feminine features, the awe in his eyes was profound.

“Wow,” said Willie in a daze. “You’re as beautiful as I remember…a sight I never get tired of.”

Reyna just smiled curtly as he gazed upon her, leaning back on his arms and taking in every feature. He’d seen her naked many times before, but she knew Willie wasn’t just referring to her natural beauty when he saw her voluptuous form. In his eyes, he wasn’t looking at Mandi, the escort he paid for a night of intimate company. He was looking at Mandi, his deceased wife.

“I miss you…so much,” he said with a hint of sorrow in his tone.

“Oh Willie,” she said, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

That was only half-true. She knew she wasn’t Amanda, the woman he’d married right out of high school and loved with all his heart until she succumbed to cancer. He had to know that too, but it didn’t matter at that moment. As far as they were both concerned, the harsh reality of their respective lives didn’t apply within the walls of the hotel suite. For just a brief moment, they could enjoy a quiet moment of intimacy.

“You’re here,” Willie said, tears already forming in his eyes. “God, I want you.”

“I want you too, Willie,” she told him.

Her role made room for her skills as an escort. With a seductive poise that she’d refined from her promiscuous past, she slipped back onto his lap, straddling his waist and grinding her groin up against his pelvis. That got the blood flowing to the lower half of his body. It also prompted a flood of amorous affection.

“My sweet, Mandi,” he gasped. “My sweet, beautiful Mandi.”

It was tough to maintain that seductive mood when he was so loving with his gestures. Willie was always more tender than most of her clients, but there was something different about the way he touched her exposed upper body. He playfully fondled her breasts, buried his face in her neck, and traced his fingers down her waist and hips, as if to paint an image in his mind.

“Mandi…I see you,” Willie gasped as he kissed her.

“So do I,” she whispered into his ear.

The foreplay quickly intensified. As Willie felt around her exposed upper body, she began loosening his clothes, removing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. It played out like so many other encounters she’d experienced with clients, but there was deeper story unfolding between them.

Reyna had come to know the details of that story well. Since he became a regular, she’d learned a great deal about the role she played. Amanda Mavin, the woman Willie saw whenever they were together, was a very different woman than the one she’d become. She wasn’t just a loving mother and supportive wife. She’d been a gifted artist, a college professor, and an adventurous traveler.

Willie claimed she saw the world as a work of art worth admiring and exploring. She’d taken him to so many wonderful places, sharing so many passions along the way. After serving in the army, spending time in war zones and seeing so many awful things, he needed that. She helped him see and experience beauty in the world again.

When Willie first told her about Amanda, she laughed at the notion that she had anything in common with her. She doubted they even looked alike. Then, he showed her some old pictures and the resemblance was undeniable. When he told her about the kind of spirit she had and how she’d overcome a less-than-ideal upbringing, Reyna saw more and more similarities. It made the intimate experiences they shared more meaningful.

For Willie, it was a way to reconnect with the memory of a woman he loved and missed dearly. For Reyna, it started as her providing comfort and sex to a lonely widower. It soon became as therapeutic for her as it was for him. After the week she’d endured, she needed that therapy more than usual.

“Willie,” Reyna said in the midst of all the affectionate touching, “lie down on your back.”

“Of course, my darling,” he said in that deep, loving tone of his.

Having rekindled old memories and the passions connected to them, she pursued the escalating desire. After guiding him towards the center of the bed, he laid down and kicked off his dress shoes, allowing her to go to work.

She channeled more of Mandi’s spirit, removing his dress shirt, undoing his belt, and taking off his slacks. She took her time, kissing down his chest and pawing his arms. He once told her that Mandi treated lovemaking like a work of art, requiring exquisite detail and impassioned vision. Reyna never saw sex in such a colorful way, but she quickly came to appreciate that approach. Upon removing the widowers underwear, she saw how much Willie appreciated it as well

“Wow! You did miss me, Willie,” Reyna said coyly while eying his semi-erect manhood.

“What can I say? Certain parts of the human body say more than words ever well,” Willie said with a playful grin.

She smiled back at him before channeling more of that sexy spirit. She briefly hovered over him, allowing him to admire her body even more. She even dangled her breasts in his face, something he once said Amanda loved to do during intimate moments. He also once mentioned she loved it even more when she gave his penis a quick lick to prepare for their sex. With most men, Reyna would’ve assumed that was just a creative way to get oral sex. With Willie, she trusted his word.

Like a sexy angel, she lovingly kissed his lips before sensually working her way down his body. Willie kept in great shape for a man his age. All the work and travel he did with his late wife really paid off. That extended to his penis, which was already throbbing by the time she reached it.

With skilled hands and talented lips, she gave the widower a quick round of oral teasing. She was more careful than usual, sucking and stroking his member while looking up at him with affectionate eyes. It evoked a familiar, yet rewarding reaction.

“Oh Mandi…my love,” Willie moaned.

She replied with more sucking, bobbing her head up and down, making full use of her oral sex skills. Seeing the older man so happy and impassioned was a nice personal bonus and one she didn’t get with most clients. It motivated her to share in the feeling, as well. As she sucked him off, she reached into her panties and fingered herself, building up her own arousal.

As soon as she got him fully hard, she rose up from the bed and removed her panties. She also retrieved a condom that she’d stashed inside, a trick that only the savvy, most cunning escorts could pull off. After opening it and applying it to his rigid manhood, they were ready to complete the moment that they’d both come to appreciate.

“I’m ready for you, Willie,” Reyna said to him as she got back on top of him.

“Please, Mandi…I need you,” Willie said, reaching up and caressing her face.

It almost was sad, hearing the longing in his voice. She saw in his eyes how much he wanted to cling to the memory of his late wife. Even if she wasn’t that woman, he yearned to turn those joyous memories into an experience…one she could share with him.

Eager to share something so loving and intimate, Reyna positioned herself over him, straddling his waist and holding onto his torso. She locked her eyes on his, doing her best to mimic the loving gaze his wife must have given him for so many years. Then, as he slipped deeper into his memories, she lowered her hips and guided his manly flesh into her.

“Ooh Willie!” Reyna moaned out.

She was more vocal than usual, but for all the right reasons. The way he filled her depths, her womanly folds embracing his rigid manhood to the utmost, filled her with more than just the familiar sensations of sex. It turned an act of basic sexual intercourse into a truly intimate act.

“Mandi…my sweet, sweet Mandi,” Willie said joyously.

“I feel you, Willie…so deep inside me,” she gasped.

Now lost with him in the feeling and the fantasy, Reyna began moving her body in a succession of slow, sensual motions. They didn’t rock the bed or strain their bodies with their sex. There was none of that crude, mindless humping that she’d experienced so common with other clients. She put real, genuine passion into their sex.

“I need this…you need this…we need this,” Reyna found herself saying in the midst of their movements.

Having established a steady rhythm, she leaned in and kissed him lovingly, allowing their naked bodies to fully mesh. The widower returned the favor, throwing his arms around her and grabbing hold of her butt, something she’d always loved during sex. It allowed him to supplement her sensual movements with his strength, evoking more blissful sensations and deepening the intimacy.

That was a big part of what made Willie her favorite client. He made their sex – the same sex that she once treated as a simple means to an end – a truly intimate act. She thought she knew intimacy from her previous boyfriends. In serving Willie, she realized those experiences were just lust, hormones, and the pursuit of meaningless pleasure. There was nothing meaningless about what she did with Willie. It might have been the most meaningful part of her otherwise hectic life.

“That’s it, Willie…make love to me,” she whispered to him. “Make sweet, beautiful love to me.”

“I will, Mandi! I…I will!” he said eagerly.

He kissed her more passionately as she rode him with focused intent, working his rigid manhood within the moist depths of her inner domain. As he squeezed her butt, she reached down and fondled her swollen clit, wanting to share the pleasure with him. It further intensified the intimacy that they both so cherished.

As they embraced the feeling, Reyna also shared in the sensual efforts. She got a bit more playful at times, leaning back and swaying her body in a sexy dance, of sorts, that earned her a beaming smile from Willie. He did his part as well, gliding his hands over her naked flesh, making sure to give her nipples some extra attention, knowing how much she loved it.

Each movement and gesture had a purpose.

Each intimate act took them closer to their goal.

Slowly, but surely, they ascended towards their respective climax.

As it drew near, Reyna shifted their bodies so that Willie was on top, working his hips with hers with energy not topical of a man his age. She held onto his shoulders, spread her legs extra wide, and locked her eyes with his once more, urging him to finish the experience.

“Oohhh I’m close, Willie! I’m so…so close!” she told him.

“Me too, Mandi! Me…too!” Willie said with labored grunts.

“Just…just a little longer. I want us…I need us…to share this.”

For a brief moment, Reyna broke character. It might have been the first time she’d ever blurred the line between the woman she was and the woman she pretended to be while escorting. It was something she’d been taught to avoid, entangling such sentimental feelings with sex work. It might have been risky, but in that moment, it felt so right.

“Mandi…my love,” the older man gasped as he neared the threshold.

“Willie,” was all she got out before following him into that world of ecstasy.

A few more shared bodily motions was all it took. When the feeling washed over them, time seemed to stop as the line between memories and roles vanished.

It wasn’t a simultaneous climax, but it was pretty damn close. Willie got his first, letting out a sharp gasp as his grip on her hips tightened in accord with his release. Feeling that hard, throbbing flesh inside her along with the heightened intimacy helped send her over the edge as well. While Reyna had gotten fairly adept at achieving orgasm with clients, she usually had to make a concerted effort. She didn’t need much when she was with Willie.

With him, the release came to her. His heartfelt sentiment took her to that special place where ecstasy took a tangible form, each sensation reverberating through her like a wave of heat. It caused her back to arch and her toes to curl, ruffling he bedsheets every step of the way. As always, she savored every minute sensation. Unlike every other orgasm she’d experienced as an escort, the one she shared with Willie left her feeling uniquely fulfilled.

“Willie…thank you,” Reyna said in the heat of the moment.

“Mandi…I miss you,” Willie said in his orgasmic daze.

She lingered in that daze with him, if only to escape a much harsher reality with him. She kissed him and embraced him again, even after he withdrew from her and laid down beside her. Their naked bodies remained entwined as the afterglow set in. Reyna already sensed the time he’d paid for running out, but she didn’t care. She didn’t even check the clock. Escort or not, she needed that special, intimate moment with him.

“Thank you,” the older man said, still catching his breath as he held her in his arms. “I know I make things awkward…mixing memories of my wife with what we do.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Reyna told him, daring to cuddle closer with her favorite client. “You loved her. You miss her. And based on all the times we’ve done this…I can tell you two were pretty passionate.”

“We were. It’s one of the many things I miss about her,” he said with a sigh, “but those intense, intimate moments we shared over the years…I miss those the most.”

“That’s how you know your love was real. Not everyone gets to experience that kind of love, let alone appreciate it. You wanting to relieve it, even its with an escort who just happens to look like her, isn’t the least bit awkward. It’s sweet.”

“I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“Believe me, Willie…I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

 

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Daily Sexy Musing: Flowers And Roses

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As someone with a long and tortured history with allergies, I admit I’m not too fond of flowers and roses being symbols of romance. That said, I don’t outright resent it. I understand the appeal. I’ve even embraced it a time or two. It’s just hard to appreciate when romantic sentiment is mixed with itchy eyes and severe nasal congestion.

However, these are just some of the things we brave in the name of romance. Back in college, I remember picking up my girlfriend from the airport so we could spend our first Spring Break together. I was excited, nervous, and anxious for any number of reasons. In an effort to set the mood, I bought her some flowers and gave them to her she arrived.

Without getting too heavy into personal details, I’ll say those flowers definitely helped. To this day, that was one of my favorite Spring Breaks of all time. Flowers, roses, and all the colorful plants we associate with romance help convey a certain sentiment. There’s just something special about their beauty and their scent that puts us in the perfect romantic mood.

With spring upon us and summer fast approaching, flowers and roses of all types are in bloom. It’s still murder on my allergies, but it still sets a uniquely romantic mood that can get sexy real fast. That mood, and the romantic undertones behind it, is more than deserving of a Daily Sexy Musing. Enjoy!

There’s that smell, again.

There’s that distinct rich aroma, once more.

There’s that special feeling it evokes, so often.

For just a small fraction of a turbulent year, the changing seasons inspire natural passions. The cold, brutal nights are gone. Trees, grass, and animals awake to warmer days and fertile lands. Within that bountiful transition, fields of roses and flowers bloom. They signal to us that the time has come to emerge from our shelters and embrace a world reborn.

The sights of greener pastures and the sounds of lively fauna are joyous, but it’s that scent that hits first. We both feel the impact, as if jolted from a long slumber. In an instant, realize how much we’ve repressed and restrained ourselves. Now, it feels like nature itself is urging us to unleash our desires.

I pick up a flower.

I pick up a rose.

I inhale the sweet smell.

I present it to you.

No words need be said. The message is clear. Sweet smells, vibrant colors, and welcome warmth tell us everything we need to know. Gone are the layers of clothing that protected from the cold, but created a barrier between our flesh. With nothing to hinder us, we follow the meaning behind the scent.

It’s a fertile halo.

It’s an intimate symbol.

It’s a gift from nature.

It’s a key to greater passions.

Surrounded by warmth and scents, I take you as eagerly as you take me. Every pent-up desire comes pouring out. In a sea of flowery beauty and rosy scents, we light the spark that ignites our love. Sweet gasps mix with sweet smells. In a fertile new world, our spirits are renewed.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Animal Loving

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Technically speaking, human beings are animals. I know there are certain individuals, especially creationists, who abhor such an association. For some, the idea of being closely associated with mere animals, let alone classified as one, just doesn’t sit well. While I’ve little respect for creationists, I can respect that sentiment to some extent.

That said, I don’t think being labeled an animal is necessarily a bad thing. In many ways, it provides an important perspective on ourselves and our place in the world. As humans, we’re capable of some pretty amazing feats. We have literally reshaped the face of this planet. At the same time, we’re still animals cut from the same mold as monkeys, dogs, cats, birds, lizards, and dinosaurs.

This extends to our love lives. I would even argue our animal nature is part of what makes our love lives so complex and kinky. Every animal goes about sex, society, and bonding in their own unique way. Humans just happened to be especially unique, but we still retain many elements of our animal nature.

At times, the greatest intimacy we experience comes when we channel our animal nature. There’s a reason why so many songs, euphemisms, and sexual positions have primal connotations. Whether we’re doing it doggie style or going at it like rabbits, we definitely have an animal side. When properly applied, it makes for amazing lovemaking. This Daily Sexy Musings should help make that case to the animal in us all.

This morning, everything was so calm. We were just two lovers, living our lives and navigating our world. Nothing was out of place. Our minds, bodies, and faculties were within our control. It was all so peaceful and serene.

Then, night came.

Then, our bodies awoke.

Then, our minds devolved.

Then, harmony gave way to chaos.

In an instant, the higher function of our human brains gives way to the base desires of our primal nature. We act on a whim and those whims are so crude. Gone are concerns about work, money, society, and propriety. In this moment, we are barely human. For the rest of the night, we are animals acting on pure, unfettered desire.

We’re dogs in heat.

We’re salmon swimming upstream.

We’re birds sounding the mating call.

On instinct, we respond to these feelings. There’s no thought or care to the details. All that matters is feeding this basic desire, following freely the primal path before us. Deeper love gives way to shallow lust. We seek no greater purpose or goal. Only a thirst for pleasure guides us.

Like hungry predators, we pounce on one another. We’re not gentle or careful. Clothes are ripped off rather than removed. There’s no caressing or teasing. Instead, we grope and grasp, indulging in the flesh that feeds the beast within us. Together, we unlock the chains and let the creature roam.

Moans become grunts.

Gasps become growls.

Words become glares.

What began as a deep human connection is now a shallow primal act. There’s no greater meaning behind our actions, nor does there need to be. Every hour of every day, we channel our humanity, just to get along with our fellow humans. When the sun sets and the doors close, we dare to unleash the animal within and savor the fruits of our beastly desires.

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“The Quiet Stud” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story inspired by a former roommate who was scrawny in stature, but had other “attributes” that made him very popular with the ladies. If he ever reads this, I hope he appreciates it. Enjoy!

“What’s with that guy in the corner?”

“I don’t know. He’s been working here for years and he’s barely said a word.”

“I’m not sure what to make of him. Word is he’s a bit of a recluse.”

“I hear he has issues…as in, issues that require medication, therapy, and a social worker.”

“I hear he’s just plain fucking weird.”

Hellen Hyland snickered to herself as she heard that all-too-familiar conversation unfold. The company had just had its biweekly meeting. As the young paralegal tasked with handing the boring paperwork, she knew how to fade into the background while the overpaid, overdressed executives discussed the business of the day. However, it was often after the meeting ended that the more interesting conversations emerged.

A frequent subject of those conversations was Terry Rhinehart, the overly quiet man in the neatly-pressed suits who rarely said a word. He rarely had to, for the most part. He was an accountant with the finance department. Much of his day centered around staring at spreadsheets, crunching numbers, and balancing the books. By all accounts, he did that job very well. In fact, Terry might have been the only employee that the director hadn’t yelled at all year.

On top of that, he wasn’t too imposing. He wasn’t tall, muscular, or charismatic. Some had even called him scrawny and he probably wouldn’t have argued. He looked like the kind of guy who did everything possible to skip gym class in high school. He was the last person most would pick to be on the company softball team. Had Hellen not known him, she wouldn’t have paid much attention to all those off-hand conversations about him.

However, Hellen did know Terry. In fact, she knew him intimately. It wasn’t common knowledge throughout the office, but she and Terry had been an item for nearly a year. In that time, she’d gotten to know the quiet young man behind those neatly-pressed suits. In the process, she’d also learned there was more man within that undersized stature than they thought.

“If only they knew,” Hellen said, shaking her head as she gathered her notes.

Smiling to herself, hiding her demeanor as she exited the conference room, she made her way back to the tiny desk within the sea of cubicles that made up the heart of the company. It was the middle of the day so almost everybody was already stressed out and planning their lunch break. Being a proactive person, by nature, Hellen had already made plans.

“It’s 11:30 and I’m officially ahead of schedule,” she said upon checking the clock after filing away her notes. “That means I have extra time. I’d better use it wisely.”

Still smiling, Hellen slipped away from her desk before her supervisor could drop by and stick her with a meaningless task. She then made her way to the far corner of the office floor. It was an area where few ventured, mostly because there wasn’t much there aside from old filing cabinets and storage areas. It didn’t even have windows with a decent view of the office campus. The only notable feature was Terry Rhinehart’s cubical.

It was such a quiet area, one befitting of such a quiet man. It also had an aura of mystery, being a nook in the office that few rarely ventured. It was part of what had drawn Hellen to Terry in the first place. That curiosity paid off in a big way…one that went beyond any mystery.

“Terry,” she called out as she approached his cube.

She didn’t get a response. She didn’t expect to. She could hear the rapid typing on the keyboard, the mark of a focused, fast-working mind. Hellen knew he heard her, but it often took more to get him out of that zone of his.

“Terry, it’s 11:30 a.m. and department heads are still entertaining the consultants,” she told him. “That means they’ll spend no less than 15 minutes brown-nosing the one with the biggest bank account. That gives us something we haven’t had lately…time.”

Upon hearing that, the fast typing stopped. The cramped, but meticulously organized cubicle fell silent. It was the kind of silence that made Hellen weak in the knees, but for the best possible reason.

Terry turned around in his chair, revealing to her the neatly-dressed, perfectly-groomed young man with a small, yet endearing presence. On the surface, he was still unimposing. One of her co-workers once described him as an extra from a 1950s American sitcom, complete with a pocket protector and a sweater vest. However, in Terry Rhinehart, Hellen saw so much more in him.

“I take it the meeting went well if it ended on time,” said Terry in that deep, analytical voice of his.

“I’d certainly say so. Are you going to review my notes to make sure?” Hellen asked, half-teasingly.

“I’ll take your word for it, Hellen. You’ve given me plenty of reasons to trust you.”

“For what I’ve contributed, professionally and otherwise, I sure as hell hope so.”

“You have,” he said strongly, “and if the consultants didn’t drag the meeting out, then that means they’re receptive. If they’re receptive, that means they’re willing to negotiate. If they’re willing to negotiate, then that means we’ll have upwards of 30 minutes…more than we’ve had in the past three months.”

Hellen’s grin widened and her legs shifted awkwardly for reasons that only Terry understood. Leave it to a numbers nerd to crunch data like that so quickly. The fact he was that thorough when it came to making time for her only made her love him more. At the same time, it boded well for how they would make use of that time.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to make use of every minute,” said Hellen.

“I’d like that too,” said Terry. “I’d like that a lot.”

Then, he did something that would’ve freaked out everyone else at the office. He smiled.

Given his reputation as a recluse and a number-loving nerd, the idea that Terry Rhinehart could smile must have seemed outrageous. The fact was that he had a beautiful smile. He just chose to share it to those who mattered and the idea that she mattered that much to him only made Hellen’s excitement grow.

“Where should we do it this time?” Hellen asked him. “The parking lot is always crowded during lunch time and the stairwell gets pretty noisy during this time of day.”

“Then, I suppose we’ll make due with the utility closet upstairs,” said Terry. “The cleaning crew isn’t due to show up for another two hours. That gives us a comfortable window.”

Hellen would’ve laughed if urgency hadn’t taken over. Trusting his lover’s knowledge of the custodial staff’s schedule, she took his hand and followed him towards the nearest stairwell, away from prying eyes and curious onlookers. Even if anyone had seen them, they would’ve just seen two co-workers taking an early lunch break. They had no idea what was about to unfold.

With an efficiency befitting of two detail-orientated individuals, they make their way to the sixth floor just above theirs. Upon exiting the stairwell, they slipped into one of the halls adjacent to the main foyer. There wasn’t much going on. That was to be expected. Nobody came up to the sixth floor very often. It had been undergoing renovations for the past five months, which made it a quiet, secluded area.

That was just what they needed, but being more overly-cautious than most, Hellen made sure there was nobody looking when they arrived at the utility closet located in between the vacant bathrooms. Being responsible for keeping the office clean, she had a key and was able to unlock it, giving her and Terry access to a confined area free of witnesses and judgment.

“In here,” Hellen said, already breathless with anticipation. “We’d better hurry!”

“Would you prefer it to be quick? Or would you prefer it to be efficient?” Terry whispered into her ear from behind, his soft voice making her legs tremble again.

“I think you know which I prefer.”

As soon as the door opened, she and Terry slipped inside, having successfully evaded detection. From there, the quiet, reserved man that everyone else knew faded. The second she locked door locked and turned the light on, another persona emerged.

“It’s been one week, four days, and nine hours since our last mid-day rendezvous,” Terry said as he drew her into his embrace. “That’s a long, long time to go without knowing your intimate touch.”

“Trust me. The wait was more agonizing for me,” Hellen told him intently.

“I find that doubtful. Care to prove it?”

He was so demanding and intense, a far cry from the soft-spoken accountant that everyone knew. He spoke with a manliness of a man twice his size and a half-foot taller. It was the kind of persona that drove Hellen wild in all the right ways. It also gave her an opportunity to show that she could be more than the sweet, innocent paralegal who most ignored.

“You’re a man of hard facts and definitive proofs,” Hellen said, her voice taking on a more seductive tone. “Lucky for you, I’m a woman capable of many proofs.”

“I know. I just love seeing you do the work,” said Terry, his embrace becoming more intense.

“Trust me. I love it more than you!”

Rising to the challenge, Hellen unleashed her own naughty side. She captured his lips with hers, threw her arms around his neck, and hungrily pressed her clothed body up against his. She showed more energy in that private moment than she ever showed publicly. There was nothing meek, mild, or reserved about it. There was just raw, unfiltered passion mixed with lust.

As the kissing intensified, she began pawing his upper body, feeling over that neatly pressed suit of his. His frame might have been wiry, but she could still a very masculine strength in his muscles. It showed even more when he reached up her dress and grazed his hand over her underwear, triggering a surge of arousal that added more urgency to their touching.

“Terry…your pants,” she gasped in the midst of all the touching and kissing.

He got the message. With their lips still entwined, he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants. Almost immediately, Hellen dropped to his knees and eagerly aided him. In an instant, his neatly-pressed slacks dropped to the floor in a wrinkled heap. At the same time, Hellen came face-to-face with a growing bulge in those plain white boxers Terry always wore…a bulge that grew larger than most would’ve imagined.

“Wow! Talk about hard facts,” she teased.

“It helps to be thorough,” Terry said.

“Indeed,” said Hellen, “and being a paralegal, I know all about being thorough.”

Licking her lips in anticipation, shedding what remained of the shy innocence that she often exercised, she pulled down his boxers to reveal his growing manhood. In doing so, she exposed what might have been the biggest secret of Terry Rhinehart…literally and figuratively.

“Terry,” Hellen said with a mix of awe and lust, “such a handsome, hunky man.”

He gazed down at her and grinned, standing with a poise of someone at least a foot taller. He deserved to because, despite his undersized frame, Terry packed a level of male endowment that put male porn stars to shame.

He had a big dick. There was no other way of putting it. Hellen remembered how shocked she’d been when she first saw it, marveling at how a man so physically unremarkable could have such a remarkable feature. She’d been with enough men and seen enough porn to know that the dimensions of Terry’s anatomy were above average, to say the least. She’d also had enough sexual experience to know how much she loved big, hulking dicks.

Some women might have hesitated to even touch a dick that big, let alone suck or fuck it in any way. Hellen didn’t waste a second of their private time, taking the massive endowment in both hands and engulfing the tip in her soft lips.

“Mmm…this is what I want,” she purred, “my secret stud’s big, throbbing cock.”

“And you…my cute little nymph,” Terry said as he ran his fingers through her hair, “you’re the only one who can handle it.”

Hellen shot him another seductive gaze as she initiated her unique approach to oral sex. Much like her work on legal briefs, she was attentive to detail. She started slow, using her tongue to trace every intricate contour. Then, she sucked softly around the tip while stroking the shaft. That helped get Terry’s blood flowing in all the right ways. As he got harder and harder, she took more of his length into her mouth, showing off a gag reflex that most wouldn’t expect of a shy office worker who’d always dressed modestly.

“That’s it! Just like that,” Terry grunted. “Hellen…so thorough.”

Harder and faster, she sucked off her undersized stud. She took as much his massive length into her throat as her gag reflex would allow. She knew Terry had been with other women before. He’d told her more than once that none could deep-throat his massive endowment as well as her.

Beyond taking pride in those oral sex skills, it also helped get her aroused as well. It might have been a dirty cliché, her getting horny from sucking a dick. It sounded like a sordid male fantasy, but there was no denying the results. Hellen could already feel her panties getting hot and moist. Even as she stroked and sucked her lover’s cock, she rubbed her thighs together to contain the growing arousal. She knew as well as Terry she could only do so for so long.

“Terry,” she said, gasping after licking along the full length of his cock, “I’m so wet right now.”

“And we’re ahead of schedule,” he told her intently.

“Well, you know I like to be proactive.”

“That, I do.”

Not needing any further prompting, Hellen followed her escalating lust alongside that of her lover. As soon as she shot from the floor, she undid the back zipper of her dress and slid it off, along with her panties. Terry also stepped out of his pants in the process, showing a rare lack of regard for his clothes as he kicked them aside.

Now both naked from the waist down, Hellen sensed Terry’s gaze narrow on her. Showing more strength and initiative than he’d ever shown in all his years at the office, he grabbed her by the waist, turned her around, and pushed her up against the wall. He wasn’t too rough, but he wasn’t too gentle either, showing just the right amount of initiative.

As she pressed against the cold metal door, she felt Terry carefully part her legs and push up her blouse so that he had a clear path to her womanhood. Being the efficient worker he was, he wasted no time, grabbing hold of her waist and guiding the tip of his massive endowment to her wet entrance. As soon as she felt the tip rub up against her wet slit, he thrust his hips forward.

What followed was a testament to the durability of female anatomy and Hellen’s immense fondness for big, throbbing cocks.

“Oohhh Terry!” she cried out, her voice echoing loudly within the utility closet.

It was rare she could be that vocal. Usually, when they hooked up at work, they had to be discrete and quiet. Since nobody was on the sixth floor, she could afford to be a little loader. Given how much her lover stretched her insides and probed her depths, it was refreshing.

“Hellen…so wet and tight,” Terry grunted.

Through more grunts, he began moving his hips, making love to her within the confined, dingy ambience of the utility closet. It was hardly the most intimate, romantic setting. That didn’t matter. It still filled Hellen with the kind of intense, raw sensations that she craved.

It felt like a tremor that morphed into a full-fledged Earthquake, the feeling of such a long, hard cock pumping into her vagina. Terry stretched and penetrated her in ways that tested her resilience, but she relished passing those tests at every turn. With each thrust of his hips and slither of his member, he stimulated parts of her body that few women could hope to experience with a man, let alone one of Terry’s stature.

Taking such a well-endowed man was strenuous at times, often walking that fine line between pleasure and pain. Hellen, whether by kink or personal taste, loved walking that line. It perfectly fit her work ethic, enduring the strain to enjoy the rewards. Hellen liked to think she appreciated that strain more than most. The fact that it made for such great sex with a man as hung as Terry was a nice bonus.

“Yes! Oohhh yes!” she cried out. “Harder, Terry! Harder!”

Terry heeded her urgent cries, thrusting harder and faster, his bulging cock moving smoothly within her wet folds. Again, he showed power and strength that didn’t seem to match his size. That only made it more satisfying to Hellen. It showed that a strong, powerful man need not have the stature to show it. If anything, Terry’s undersized form made him work harder when it came to making love to a woman and Hellen was the direct benefactor of that work.

As they humped, swayed, and gyrated to their sensual dance, Terry supplemented his efforts by reaching around and fondling her clit. He once claimed he had calculated the exact amount of pressure necessary to bring a woman to orgasm. Hellen had long since stopped doubting that. He also reached up her shirt and felt her swaying breasts, something else he knew she loved. It helped bring her to the brink of orgasm with an efficiency that only two detail-oriented lovers could appreciate.

“Yes, Terry! Just like that! Just…like that!” Hellen gasped. “I’m almost…almost there!”

“Me too, Hellen,” he gasped. “Me…too!”

In another burst of energy, Hellen leaned up against the door even harder, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as she ventured into that special world of ecstasy. Terry reached around and kissed down her neck, still pumping into her womanhood with his cock and fondling her clit with his right hand. She could feel how close he was too with the way his massive member throbbed inside her.

He was always so courteous, letting her have her pleasure first before enjoying his own. When he sent her over the edge, Hellen made it a point to reach behind and fondle his neatly-combed hair as she let out her cry of euphoria.

“OOHHH TERRY!”

Her orgasmic cry echoed loudly throughout the confined closet. She swore the whole floor shook as he delivered the final few thrusts, sending her over the edge and into that pool of ecstasy. Had his embrace on her not been so strong, her legs would’ve buckled. Once again showing uncanny strength, he held her close as she climaxed.

Wave after wave of hot bliss coursed through her body, starting as a hot ball of fire within her core and spreading out in every direction. As her world shook, her inner muscles tightened around her lover’s massive cock, which helped send him over the edge as well. He wasn’t quite as loud when he climax. He didn’t need to be. True to his nature, he let his actions do the talking.

“Hellen…” was the most he got out.

Her body shuddered. His tensed. Together, they clung to one another as they writhed in orgasmic delight. It was a perfect harmony of ecstasy, one born by unleashing the desire and energy that they kept hidden from so many others.

Even as their hearts beat together and their flesh remained entwined, Hellen managed to turn her head just enough to capture Terry’s lips in another kiss. Through the intense desire and naked lust, a perfect dose of love always found a way into their sex. It further strengthened the balance, affirming to them a feeling that they kept so secret, but savored at every opportunity.

“I love you, Terry,” Hellen said as she caught her breath, “my quiet, soft-spoken stud.”

“I love you too,” Terry whispered into her ear, “my kinky little sex fiend.”

“You know…people think a lot of weird things about you…about us.”

“Let them think what they want. Let them see us as quiet, reserved stiffs. This…what we share in private and in secret…this is ours and no one else’s.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They shared another kiss before their bodies parted. They then collected themselves, putting their clothes back on and fixing their appearance. That always took a while, trying to make it so they didn’t look like they’d just had hot sex in a dirty closet. Terry always took longer, straightening out his shirt, tie, and slacks until they were perfect. It was tedious, but worth the effort.

As soon as they stepped out of the closet, they went back to being who everyone thought they were. They returned to a world that saw them as quiet, reserved, and unremarkable. Nobody ever would’ve expected that Terry Rhinehart was a well-hung stud or that she was a self-admitted sex fiend. Even if someone told them, they never would’ve believed it.

That was exactly how they wanted it, though. In the end, that was what made their love, their sex, and their unique tastes in intimacy so special.

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Daily Sexy Musing: First Crush

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Who doesn’t remember their first crush? I ask that question knowing that some people cringe at the memory of who they used to pine for. At the same time, there are some people who ended up marrying their first crush. Some of them are still together. For romantically-minded people, it can be both beautiful and sobering.

Growing up, I was a socially awkward kid with little confidence and an acne problem. However, that same awkwardness made the attraction I felt to girls seem more intense. I think some of it played a part in me becoming such a romance fan. That was especially true of my first crush.

I’ve talked about it before and while nothing came of it, I still remember it fondly on many levels. It marked the first time I sought to connect with someone on a level deeper than friendship. It also helped remind me that I wasn’t a kid anymore. These were mature, adult feelings. They were overwhelming and stressful, but they were also exciting and new.

Regardless of who our first crush was and what came of it, if anything, it’s often one of those pivotal moments that sticks out whenever we look back on our lives. We don’t always appreciate those moments, especially if they’re embarrassing. It’s still a major milestone. It’s the moment we start seeking love, sex, and everything that goes with it. I hope this Daily Sexy Musing makes those moments more memorable. Enjoy!

It starts with an idea.

It turns into a spark.

It grows into a flame.

It becomes a defining moment.

In my young, inexperienced mind, everything is so new and mysterious. The world seems so daunting, but my desires are so basic. I long to embrace, connect, and love. I just don’t know how or why. The child in me has become more silent. A new voice is emerging and it’s drawing me to you.

In a sea of many others, you somehow stand out. When I look at you, I don’t just see another figure navigating the boundless chaos. I see a beacon of light through dark, choppy waters. The mere sound of your voice draws me in with hypnotic allure. I don’t understand it, but I feel its power.

I’m scored, but excited.

I’m confused, but focused.

I’m lost, but driven.

This feels so strange, but it seems so right. I don’t call it love. I’m too young for that. The lingering child in me clings to a simpler understanding. Love is for mommies and daddies. It’s for children and their parents. I’m not ready for it. I don’t want to be ready. However, it’s too late.

I think I want to be with you.

I think I want to embrace you.

I think I want to love you.

Thoughts and feelings clash. Hormones and influences add fuel to the fire. Just being near you renders me short of breath. I cannot hope to process it. I have no idea how to act. I don’t even know if you feel the same.

The unknowns are many and the certainties are few. Within those select few, I realize one important truth.

I have a crush.

I know love.

No matter how overwhelming or mysterious it may feel, I like it and I hope to love it.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Stormy Night Passion

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What goes into setting up a sexy mood? The answer varies from person to person. I don’t doubt for a second that a setting I might find sexy would be a huge turn-off for others. I happen to think candle-lit comic book stores are an intimate setting. I imagine I’m in the minority in feeling that way.

However, I believe that some sexy settings have a more universal appeal. One such setting involves stormy nights. I’m not just talking about rainy days or a light drizzle at sunset. I’m talking about the kind of storms that roll in late at night and bring plenty of thunder with it.

For some, it can be scary, especially if you have pets or kids. Then again, it’s not unusual for our brains to misinterpret fear for something sexy. I can easily imagine our hunter/gatherer ancestors huddling together on a stormy night, trying to stay warm. I don’t think it would take much for that sort of scenario to get sexy.

Howling winds, pouring rain, and flashy lightning is one of nature’s most basic spectacles. It’s only fitting that such a special could trigger some of our most basic instincts as well, including the sexy ones. With that in mind, I hope this Daily Sexy Musing gives you and your lover something to contemplate the next time you’re at home on a stormy night. Enjoy!

The rain pours harder.

The wind howls faster.

The lightning flashes brighter.

The thunder echoes louder.

In the darkest hours of the night, we find ourselves in the center of a storm. There is no peaceful quiet under the night sky. Nature is at its most volatile, reminding us we are under its whim and at its mercy. Within that chaos, we huddle together closer.

Only four walls and a roof protect us from such harsh elements. A few inches of material stand between us and nature’s wrath. We can do nothing to temper it. Our only hope is to wait it out. Under darkened skies, however, hope clashes with other feelings.

Out of fear, we huddle closer.

Seeking comfort, we embrace.

Feeling restless, we offer support.

From support, we evoke another reaction.

Nature won’t let us rest. If night affords us no serenity, then why should we offer ours? The world bellows with primal forces. Why not tap into our own? Together, behind these walls, and surrounded by danger, the heavens are daring us to start a storm of our own.

We answer the call.

We shed our clothes.

We slip under the covers.

We unleash a torrent of passion.

Harder and harder, faster and faster, we make our own commotion in the latest hours of the night. Like the winds and rain outside, we are neither gentle nor peaceful. We dare to be loud and reckless, not caring what peace we may shatter. Our love is a product of nature, but our lust is the storm that helped forge it. This time, we let the storm rage.

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“Intimacy Test 69” A Sexy Short Story (Involving Aliens)

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote involving aliens, abductions, and sexy science experiments. I used to be big into UFOs and I’ve read a lot about stories involving alien abductions. While I believe most of those stories have more terrestrial explanations, I always felt they had some sexy potential. This is just one story built on that idea. Enjoy!

Most people who gazed up at the stars could only wonder and contemplate what alien life might be like. The sheer size, breadth, and beauty of the night sky was enough to make anyone’s imagination run wild. For Olivia Allen, she didn’t have to wonder. She knew the truth. Humanity was not alone, but that profound truth didn’t change the way she looked up at the stars. If anything, it gave the cosmos a very intimate kind of intrigue.

“Another crisp, clear night in the middle of the month,” Olivia said with a beaming grin as she gazed up at the night sky, “my favorite kind of night during my favorite time of month.”

Standing on the balcony of her undersized apartment on the outskirts of the city, she admired the stars above in a way few understood. Anyone who knew her often got the sense that she saw the world in a profoundly different. More than one person, including multiple family members, had commented on her unique outlook on life. She often smiled for no reason. She saw amazing beauty in mundane things. She rarely got upset over anything. Even when she had her car towed by a vindictive neighbor, she just shrugged it off.

To the rest of the world, Olivia was a mystery that nobody could seem to crack. She was young and beautiful, but never dated anyone, much to the chagrin of her family and friends. She was often alone, but never seemed lonely. She worked an unglamorous job at a local planetarium, but treated it like the best job in the world. They had no idea what she knew and how she’d come to know it. Most people wouldn’t have believed her, but that didn’t matter.

Olivia knew the intimate truth about the universe and humanity’s unique place within it. She embraced that truth in all its intimate grandeur.

“We’re not alone. We’re never alone,” Olivia said to the stars. “But that’s only part of the journey. The rest requires a different process…one that goes beyond any one species or planet.”

Armed with such profound insight, she re-entered her apartment and made her way to the bedroom. Along the way, she removed the bath robe she’d been wearing since she finished her bath an hour ago. She didn’t bother with clothes. She hadn’t worn clothes to bed in years and for good reasons.

Having completed her usual bedtime rituals, Olivia turned out the lights and slipped under the freshly-washed sheets of her bed. As she laid her head on the pillow and got comfortable, the beaming grin she’d cast towards the stars never faded. She wasn’t tired, but already knew that rest wasn’t the reason she’d turned in early on a Friday night.

“I know you’re out there,” she said into the darkened room. “You know I’m here. I’m ready.”

At first, there was only silence. Had anyone heard her utter those words in such a tone, they would’ve thought she was crazy. For a time, she thought she might have been. That was a lifetime ago. Since then, Olivia embraced a new kind of life…one that set her apart from much of the human race.

Finally, after a few moments of lying in bed with her eyes closed in silence, she felt it. The visitors she’d been expecting had arrived.

“Olivia Allen,” said a calm, peaceful, yet non-human voice inside her head. “This is a message from, Erotos of the Zetania Cluster. It is time.”

Olivia didn’t say a word. She just kept smiling and kept her eyes closed, knowing exactly what she was in for.

It started like many other stories attributed to alien abductions. First, there was a blinding column of light that apparently came from nowhere. Next, she felt paralyzed and unable to move. Then, she felt herself lifted into mid-air, as though gravity had been nullified. At that point, though, the stories about encountering real aliens diverted from the intimate truth.

In a flash, her surroundings changed, even though it felt like her body hadn’t moved. It used to make her dizzy and disoriented. Now, she enjoyed it, treating it like a ride at an amusement park. She opened her eyes just in time to see the light fade, revealing that she was no longer in her bedroom.

“That never stops being amazing,” Olivia said to herself.

She didn’t know what the technical term was. She’d been told that it wasn’t teleportation or a wormhole or some other phenomenon she could relate to common sci-fi movies. She just knew it worked. One minute, she was lying in bed within her ordinary, well-populated apartment. The next, she was aboard and alien ship in orbit around the Earth.

“Welcome back, Olivia,” said Erotos, the voice still coming from within her head. “You appear healthy, content, and well-nourished.”

“Thank you, Erotos. Are you going to scan every molecule of my body again?” she replied, knowing with certainty that she’d be heard.

“That will not be necessary. I’ve come to trust your word, as well as general observation.”

“I think that counts as progress by human standards.”

“It counts in other ways too…more than you think.”

That was something else Olivia never tired of, hearing the voice of a real-life alien in her head. It had once been so scary. Now, it was so comforting, having another presence in her mind. She’d come to see it as another kind of intimacy, one that connected her to a much larger universe.

As she reoriented herself, Olivia took in the very alien, yet very familiar surroundings. She once again stood in the arrival bay, as it had been called. It was small room that felt much bigger than it was. It didn’t contain much other than a large, alien-looking machine that she couldn’t begin to understand. She often called it her special transporter because no matter where she was on Earth, it could transport her onto the ship.

The ship itself was much bigger. She knew it was in orbit because there were screens in the wall that showed the Earth outside. It was a beautiful, majestic sight. However, it wasn’t the spectacle she admired most when encountering the alien being who called itself Erotos.

“Please, step forward,” Erotos told her. “We’ve prepared the next Intimacy Test for you. I believe you’ll be quite pleased with our latest refinements.”

“I look forward to seeing for myself. I always do,” said Olivia.

“As do we,” the alien told her. “Your data tends to be more useful than most.”

She laughed to herself as she stepped forward towards what looked like a blank wall, but created its own door for her, as if it were magic. Olivia tried not to think of it like that. Everything on the alien ship only seemed magical. In reality, it was just technology so advanced that her human mind couldn’t see it any other way. It was humbling, but it also reminded her of the role she’d come to play in Erotos’ alien agenda.

Upon passing through the doorway, a group of familiar beings awaited her. They weren’t the little green men of old movies, nor were they the big-headed gray aliens that others claimed to encounter. They were tall, slender, silver-skinned humanoid beings with no face, modest muscle features, and little traces of Earthly heritage.

However, Olivia had been told on her first encounter that the silver-skinned beings weren’t actually the bodies the aliens came from. They were just constructs that housed their consciousness. Their humanoid form was meant to provide some familiarity to humans they encountered. While their lack of a face was somewhat strange, Olivia had grown more comfortable with them over the years.

“I know the drill,” she said to them. “Do what you need to do.”

Without fear or concern, she approached them and held out her arms. She was still fully naked, but not the least bit uncomfortable. If anything, being around aliens who saw human bodies in such a unique, comprehensive context had made her more comfortable with nudity. She barely flinched as the beings felt around parts of her body, the soft tingles of their fingertips a sign of them gathering data.

They were gentle, but thorough, starting with her face, feet, and arms before working their way to her torso. At times, their touch was somewhat cold. At others, it was downright tickles. She even laughed somewhat when one grazed her upper shoulders a certain way.

“Are you still sensitive in the cluster of muscles around your sternocleidomastoid,” Erotos asked her. “If necessary, we can apply a treatment.”

“That’s okay, Erotos,” Olivia replied. “You know how I feel about treatments. If it’s for part of my body that I can’t pronounce, I’ll deal with it.”

“We are simply being thorough and considerate. Such courtesy is critical for harmonious among sentient life.”

It was so fitting and sobering, knowing there were universal constants for how life treated one another, regardless of where it came from. Just learning that had profoundly changed how Olivia had come to see humanity’s place in the cosmos, as well as her own. Every alien encounter seemed to affirm that perspective even more.

That perspective gained greater relevance as the alien humanoids finished their analysis. They’d felt around every part of her body, but saved one particular area for last…namely the intimate parts located between her thighs.

“Analysis indicates that your genitals are becoming aroused,” said one of the humanoids in a mechanical tone. “Is this in error?”

“No,” Olivia said with a chuckle, “it most certainly is not.”

“My apologies, Olivia,” said Erotos. “That particular individual is new to our crew and hasn’t fully assimilated your tendencies.”

“That’s okay, Erotos. I don’t mind aliens learning what a horny woman feels like.”

She laughed to herself as the silver-skinned humanoids finished their analysis. They always spent extra time on the areas in and around her vagina. She often wondered why they were so fascinated by those parts of human anatomy. She didn’t mind, though. She’d come to enjoy their soft, analytical touch on her most intimate areas. It had a strange way of turning her on, which often came in handy for the upcoming test.

“Analysis complete,” said one of the humanoids. “Please proceed into the testing area, Olivia Allen.”

“Thanks,” she said, casting the faceless being a kind smile. “Also, you can just call me Olivia.”

“Your request has been acknowledged and noted.”

That was another thing that took some getting used to, the overly-analytical nature of the aliens. They were capable of showing some range of emotion. While Erotos had told her that they were part machine, she also sensed greater feeling in them, albeit not in a way that most humans would understand.

Over time, she’d come to appreciate it. In addition, it reminded her of why Erotos’ tests were so critical and why her role in them was so much larger than raw data.

“The greatest wonders of the universe await once more,” she said to herself.

As she stepped forward, another door in the metal wall opened, leading to another familiar area. It was part lab, part bedroom. In the center was a large, king-sized bed that looked like it had been copied from some fancy hotel in the city. Given Erotos’ resources, it probably had been. In addition to the bed, there was a large console on the other side of the room consisting of computers and monitors, albeit of a very alien variety.

Sitting at the head of that console was Erotos himself – or itself, as Olivia had never surmised if they had an actual gender. Unlike the silver-skinned beings from earlier, Erotos had a more distinctly-alien form. It was not humanoid, nor was it purely biological. It had a half-dozen limbs, some functioning as arms while other functioned as legs. It had a body, but one that was shaped more like an orb rather than a typical torso. It had a face, but one with several eyes, no discernable nose, and a small mouth.

It was as alien as a creature could get, having no resemblance to anything from Earth. Olivia remembered how terrified she’d been when she first saw it, but Erotos had done much to calm her fears. She quickly learned that Erotos’ species was very empathetic, able to sense distress in others and alleviate it through means that seemed psychic, in nature. She’d even come to see beauty in Erotos’ form, although it made clear more than once that its species had evolved beyond their initial bodies millennia ago.

“You are looking very well, Olivia,” Erotos greeted.

“Thanks,” she replied with a friendly smile. “You have no idea how rare it is for a naked woman to hear that and not be put off.”

“I could likely calculate that within 2.3 minutes, but I prefer to commence with the test. I believe we’ve fully optimized the intimate potential of the subject. We are all very curious to see what sort of intimate data you’ll extrapolate from it.”

“Believe me, Erotos, I’m curious too…among other things.”

With growing anticipation, Olivia approached the bed and awaited Erotos’ latest test. It claimed such tests had major implications for humanity, the Zetania Cluster, and sentient life throughout the cosmos. As such, she took those tests as seriously as any intelligent life could.

After a brief wait, which included Erotos entering commands on the computers with its many arms, another door formed in the wall across the room. From it, a new being emerged. It was very human man and, like her, he was completely naked. However, Olivia had done enough tests to know that he was no ordinary man.

“Olivia, meet Adam Mark 69,” Erotos announced, “the latest in optimized human intimacy.”

“Mark 69, huh?” Olivia said with a snicker. “If only you knew the connotations associated with that number. Then again, you’re an intelligent alien. You definitely know and it already shows!”

Already excited about the data Erotos sought, she approached the subject that she intended to call Adam 69 for the rest of the test. Before she even got within reaching distance, she could smell the intense, masculine musk emanating from his body. It was such an alluring scent, most likely a product of pheromones specifically crafted to make human women horny. Olivia certainly felt those effects, but she didn’t need a manly smell to make her want to test Adam 69.

He looked like something out a lurid female fantasy. He had the physique of a male model, his upper body covered in chiseled, masculine muscles. He reminded her of an Olympic swimmer or track star. He also had a face that radiated sex appeal, from his short, well-groomed hair to a slight bit of facial hair to reflect his masculine features.

Then, there was that endowment hanging between his legs. Olivia couldn’t help but notice that as she got closer. She’d seen more than her share of male genitalia, even before she encountered Erotos. What Adam 69 had looked was the male anatomical equivalent of a masterpiece.

“Wow,” she said as she reached out to touch the chest of the male figure, “of all the alien technology I’ve seen, this may still be the most impressive.”

“I’m glad I am making a good impression,” said Adam in a mechanical, yet manly tone.

“You’re doing more than that, handsome…much more.”

Now standing within the heart of his intimate presence, she affectionately embraced the beautiful naked man before her. His smooth skin, bulging muscles, and polished physique felt so good with every touch, like an impossible fantasy made real.

As if by pure instinct, Adam smiled at her and embraced her as well. Upon feeling those powerful, muscular arms around her naked body, every sexual instinct went into overdrive. Her inner thighs became wet with feminine juices. Her heart raced, her face became flushed, and her skin grew extra-sensitive to his touch.

Along with her arousal, she sensed Adam’s male anatomy respond as well. The instant her thigh made contact with his penis, it began to swell to a state of arousal. It affirmed that, like the other subjects Erotos had her test before, Adam’s biology operated by different rules.

“Like others before him, Adam 69’s male physiology has been optimized by a combination of refined human genetics, bionic implants, and synthetic augmentations,” Erotos stated, still focused on the computer console. “We’ve compiled data from previous subjects to optimize both the physical and emotive features of the subject. We are confident that this is the closest we’ve come to date in creating the perfect intimate companion.”

“I already share much of that confidence,” said Olivia, “but I’d like to be sure.”

“As would I, Olivia Allen,” said Adam 69.

“Please…call me Olivia,” she said to him. “And while you’re at it…kiss me.”

“As you wish, Olivia.”

Without hesitation, the handsome male figure granted her request and captured her lips in a deep, affectionate kiss. In that moment, the overwhelming notion that she was on an alien ship, naked and surrounded by actual aliens, became an afterthought. As far as she was concerned, she and Adam were the only two beings in the universe that mattered.

It wasn’t the first time Erotos had presented her with a handsome male test subject for her to embrace. Since her first introduction to Erotos’ project, he’d presented her with all sorts of subjects. Not all of them were as attractive or welcoming as Adam 69. In fact, most of the earlier subjects were clumsy, functioning less like actual human and more like glorified sex robots with pre-programmed responses. They made for plenty of sexy fun, but offered little in terms of intimacy.

Kissing Adam 69 showed that Erotos had learned a great deal from all those previous tests. It didn’t feel like she was just kissing an attractive man. There were deeper connections at work, passions that went beyond physical gestures and basic desires. It really felt like she was kissing the love of her life and that only made her want to make love to him even more.

She managed to contain herself in order to draw out the kiss, if only so she and Adam could explore each other’s bodies with their hands. It also helped Erotos gather data, which was often treated like the most valuable currency in the universe. It might have been difficult for a human to understand, but Olivia had come to appreciate certain kinds of intimate data.

“Soft lips, tender hands, and eyes that touch a woman’s soul,” Olivia said upon briefly parting their lips.

“All good things, I hope,” Adam 69 said.

“There’s still room for improvement,” Olivia said coyly. “Here…touch my pussy. Feel for yourself just how much you’re affecting me.”

In the interest of keeping the data flowing, she gently guided his hand down between her legs. As soon as his fingers made contact with her moist outer folds, Olivia let out a soft gasp. Adam 69, encouraged by her reaction, employed that skilled touch of his into exploring her most intimate anatomy. Erotos seemed to approve.

“Such a strong reaction,” the alien being said, “much stronger than any before it.”

“Mmm…no need to crunch the numbers. I feel it too!” Olivia said.

While Adam 69 caressed and probed her womanhood with his hand, she re-captured his lips in another kiss. She was much more direct than before, twirling her tongue with his and deepening their embrace. She made it a point to press her breasts up against his chest, maximizing the skin-on-skin contact. She also demonstrated her skill at touching intimate anatomy, reaching down and stroking his perfectly-shaped penis, which was already semi-erect.

At that point, the kissing, the embracing, and the groping ceased being purely affectionate. It was now full-fledged foreplay. Each gesture now had a singular goal in maximizing sexual arousal. They achieved that goal quickly, much more so than previous tests. Olivia could barely stand, her legs weak from the burning heat between her legs. She could also sense the escalating desire in Adam 69 and not just in terms of the rock-hard flesh in her hand.

He wanted to make love to her.

She wanted to make love to him.

Beyond the simple desire for sex, Olivia felt a deeper intimate connection with Adam 69. It was very different from other test subjects, which gave her all the more incentive to complete the test.

“The data is getting erratic,” Erotos said, “but in a statistically relevant manner. I must gather more!”

The advanced alien creature entered several commands on the console. The lights in the area around the bed dimmed, taking on a very sensual undertone. It felt less like an alien ship and more like the honeymoon suite at a fancy resort. While Olivia didn’t need extra setup to make love to the handsome man before her, it certainly helped.

“Please proceed, Olivia,” Erotos told her. “If you are ready, take Adam Mark 69 to the bed and engage in sexual intercourse. Be as thorough and passionate as you wish. Remember, every bit of data is precious.”

“Don’t worry, Erotos. I’ll make it count!” Olivia said intently.

The kiss ended. For a brief moment, she and Adam 69 just stood there in a deep embrace, their naked bodies pressing together in a growing heat of passion. She could feel his fully-erect penis pressing against her. She was just as certain he could feel the heat radiating from her pussy. Gazing into his eyes, exchanging with him a seductive grin, the next phase of the test had arrived.

“Adam 69,” she said in a deep, affectionate voice, “take me to the bed.”

“Yes, my darling,” Adam 69 responded.

It didn’t come off as a pre-recorded response, like so many others. When Olivia heard it, she believed it. That belief became stronger as Adam 69 picked her up with his powerful arms, prompting her to throw her legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders. As he carried her over to the bed, he kissed her with loving affection, not letting the passion of the moment wane for an instant.

Olivia knew that Adam 69 was more than human. She understood that Erotos had engineered him like every other model. However, from her perspective, he was still a man. She sensed in him a deeper feeling that went beyond the latest model of an experiment. She sought to explore that feeling with him in the most intimate way possible.

Upon arriving at the bed, Adam 69 laid her down in the center and got on top of her. The impossibly soft sheets felt like a cloud cradling her naked body. Still kissing her passionately, he followed more of those inborn instincts and prepared to enter her. She kept her legs wrapped around his waist, the balls of her feet digging right into his lower back. She felt him adjust and align their bodies so that his manhood was perfectly aligned with the entrance to her womanly depths.

“Please,” Olivia said with a mix of desperation and desire, “I want to feel you inside me.”

“I want to feel it to…Olivia,” Adam 69 said.

With their desires and bodies now perfectly in line, the impossibly handsome man thrust his hips forward and entered her. Immediately, Olivia let out a gasp that echoed throughout the cosmos.

“Ooh yes!” she cried out.

It was like a missing piece of her soul had finally found her. The way his masculine flesh filled her feminine depths was akin to two matched puzzle pieces coming together, perfectly matched and ideally molded for one another. The hot, intense sensations the followed filled her mind and body with a special kind of bliss. For all Olivia knew, she was the first woman to ever experience such a feeling.

In Adam 69’s reaction, she saw more than just a man enjoying the sensations of a hot vagina surrounding his dick. As he looked at her and she looked back at him, she saw someone who had achieved his ultimate purpose. Who he was and what he strived to be had culminated in that moment, evoking a pleasure that went beyond flesh.

“Olivia…my love,” Adam said in a passionate daze.

“Adam,” she gasped, “make love to me.”

No further instructions were necessary. Instinct, desire, and affection took over. The impassioned look in his eyes remained strong as he drew her into another kiss as their naked bodies began moving to the rhythm of sexual bliss.

Together, they navigated their passions into a perfectly balanced pace. With his knees and feet digging into the bed, Adam 69 laterally worked his masculine form along hers, his manly sinews meshing perfectly with her feminine curves. Olivia complemented those motions, shifting her hips and tensing her legs so that every motion maximized their fleshly entwinement. If there was such a thing as a perfect blend of love and sex, she and Adam 69 had definitely achieved it.

“The data…so raw and complete,” Erotos said over the sounds of various grunts and moans. “It’s beautiful!”

That sentiment seemed fitting, an alien intelligence finding beauty in such an intimate act. Olivia kept the data flowing, kissing her advanced lover passionately while raking her fingers over his back. She shared with him all the grunts and gasps of their sex, affectionately clinging to onto one another as they pushed the limits of intimate bliss.

Olivia quickly found herself on the brink of orgasm. It might have been the quickest, most efficient ascension to the ultimate ecstasy in the history of the female body. Simple, missionary-style sex wasn’t supposed to be that effective, at least under ordinary circumstances. However, there was nothing ordinary about what she was experiencing. The love she and Adam 69 were making was set to redefine the limits of sex, love, and everything in between.

“Adam! Oh Adam! I’m close! I’m…I’m so close!” she panted as the feeling closed in.

“Yes…I feel it too!” Adam gasped. “I…I want to come with you.”

“Me too! Let’s…share this together!”

The rhythm of their love intensified. Their naked bodies moved faster and with greater urgency. While the kissing ceased, the touching and caressing intensified. Her eyes were locked with his, taking in every detail of his loving expression. There was so much passion radiating from his eyes…passions that were both very human and distinctly alien. The feeling they were creating together was more than just an orgasm. It was an intimate connection on a cosmic scale.

“Oohhh Adam!”

“Ohhh Olivia!”

In a moment where the line between two bodies body and two souls disappeared, she and Adam climaxed. It might not have been the first time in human history that two lovers achieved simultaneous orgasm, but Olivia believed what they’d just achieved was the most profound.

Their bodies were perfectly synchronized every step of the way, her inner folds contracting around his rigid member as his manly fluids mixed with her feminine juices. Through the blissful process, her toes curled, his back arched, and their grip on one another intensified. Together, they bathed in the ecstasy of such an intense release. As the ripples of pleasure coursed through their naked bodies, their eyes never diverted. As far as Olivia was concerned, Adam 69 was the center of her universe, just as she was the center of hers.

Through that strong feeling, it was easy to forget that the love they’d just made was still a test and one directed by an alien, no less. In the heat of such a powerful moment, it was an afterthought. That didn’t make the results of the test any less conclusive.

“This is it. After so many tests, analysis, and alterations, I believe we’ve done it,” said Erotos from his console. “The perfect manifestation of physical and intimate bonding, represented in both raw data and abstract ideals…it’s very real, observed and documented.”

“Mmm…real indeed,” Olivia said with a satisfied purr.

“I don’t think you understand, Olivia,” Erotos went on. “Millennia ago, my kind sought to transcend biology and all its limited experiences. When we succeeded, we could evolve even faster, venturing to the stars and beyond. However, to do through mere mechanistic means was…unfulfilling.”

Olivia already knew that part of the Zetania Cluster’s history. Erotos had shared much of it during their first encounter. Knowing that history was a major factor in her choosing to help Erotos with his tests. Now, that fateful choice had gained even greater significance.

“For too long, my people have been in conflict,” Erotos went on. “Some seek to reconnect with our biological roots and the intimate nature of its many forms. Others seek to merely copy it into a mechanical form, as if it were another tool. What I just observed…what you’ve helped me conclude, Olivia Allen…is proof that there’s a way to synthesize the two. We can evolve our bodies while also forging close, intimate connections.”

“That, we can,” Olivia said, almost humored that so many tests were needed to reach such a conclusion.

“The implications are vast,” Erotos said, “both for my kind and yours. More tests are likely necessary to replicate the results, but I suspect both you and Adam Mark 69 won’t mind indulging such scientific rigor.”

“No, we won’t,” said Adam 69 with a wide grin.

“Not in the slightest,” Olivia said.

As if to prove themselves to Erotos, they shared a loving kiss to cap off their sex. Their intimate flesh parted in the process, but they remained entwined in their passionate embrace. Data or no data, the feeling they’d created was still strong.

“Officially, this test is over,” Erotos said. “There is much to compile. Adam Mark 69 will remain intact, preserved, and stored comfortably for future efforts.”

“That’s good to know,” said Olivia while caressing his manly face. “I don’t see how you’ll be able to improve on this.”

“I’m glad you like this form. It is, by far, my favorite compared to all the others,” said Adam 69.

That was another unique aspect of alien tech. Adam 69 was a unique consciousness, but he’d been in multiple bodies. Erotos explained on their first encounter that his race knew how to store, preserve, and transfer consciousness the same way she transferred text messages on her phone. Over time, that consciousness had evolved to a point where it could function with or without a body. Having just made love to him, Olivia definitely preferred that he keep the body.

“If you wish, I can end this test now,” Erotos said. “I can put Adam Mark 69 in stasis. I can send you back. You’ll wake up in your bed, rested and with a complete memory of what you experienced.”

“Or…you could let us stay for a couple more hours,” Olivia suggested, already gazing seductively at Adam 69, “you know, to make more love and capture more data.”

“I would certainly not be opposed to that,” said Adam 69.

Olivia wasn’t sure if Erotos had a sense of humor. Their kind might not even have a concept of humor. However, they did seem to understand innuendo.

“I see no reason to deny such a request,” said Erotos. “Feel free to make love as many times as you wish. I can always use some extra data.”

“So could we,” said Olivia, “so much data.”

“Data, intimacy, and love,” Adam 69 said distantly. “I cannot think of a more worthy purpose!”

Olivia still didn’t know how to read the face of an advanced alien, but she swore she saw a smile. Test or no test, she’d found something special and uniquely human on an alien ship. In her arms, upon a bed made of materials that might not have been from Earth, she had the perfect lover with which to share an intimate connection.

Armed with that connection, they shared another kiss before making love again, letting their bodies and passions run free with desire. However many times they made love and however many positions they utilized, one crucial piece of data made every sensation more satisfying.

Life, no matter where it came from or what form it took, could venture to the farthest reaches of the cosmos through sheer will and resolve. However, when it came to forging purpose in every endeavor, large or small, having an intimate connection made the journey more satisfying.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Make-Up Sex

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I’ve always had mixed feelings about make-up sex. That’s not to say I’m against it. I know that in certain situations, it can work for certain couples. It can even be good for certain relationships. If a couple can find a way to get something meaningful out of it, then more power to them. Being a romantic, though, it often leaves me conflicted.

I’ve known couples who treat make-up sex as a bandage, of sorts. They fight, bicker, and argue to no end, only to use sex as a way to mend whatever wounds they impart. Now, I’m all for using sexy activities to make a bad day feel better, but as a remedy for major issues, it’s a risky treatment option that is prone to all sorts of complications.

I should probably disclose that I don’t have much direct experience with make-up sex. It just doesn’t appeal to me, personally. In all the relationships I’ve had, it hasn’t been part of the romance. While I doubt it’ll ever be part of a future romance, I don’t necessarily rule out the possibility.

That said, I don’t doubt the potential value it may have in our collective love lives. I’ve seen other couples successfully use it. I even see the logic to it, using something sexy to counter conflict. When properly applied, it can do more than just temper hostility. This Daily Sexy Musing is my own little exploration into how ambitious lovers can go about it. Enjoy!

I’m so upset with you.

You’re so upset with me.

We vent our anger.

We share the dismay.

How did it go so wrong? On any other day, our love carries us through. Together, we find a way to work it out. We need not raise our voice or bicker needlessly. We’re supposed to be stronger, but on this day, our passions get the better of us. The frustration boils over and we show our worst selves.

I hate this feeling as much as you. Everything about it feels wrong. I want nothing more than to put it behind us. You want the same. It shows in your tears of anguish. I’m ready to make amends, but I don’t know how.

We can’t stand each other, but we can’t walk away.

We resent each other, but we love each other.

We annoy each other, but we console one another.

I can’t stand it anymore. This isn’t who we are. All the heart, soul, and energy we put into our love cannot be so easily subverted. There has to be a way to fix this. I promise to myself and to you that I will make everything right. The bitterness is strong, but our love is stronger. I need only find a way to channel it.

Finally, the feeling boils over. The anger turns to resignation. All the hate becomes a realization. The intensity of what we feel manifests in a new way. Suddenly, the resentment seems petty. Everything that seemed so wrong now seems trivial. To right our strained hearts becomes obvious. The same passion that caused us pain is re-purposed and reversed.

Together, we vent a new wave of emotions.

Together, we tear into each other once more.

Together, we unleash our most heated feelings.

Together, we turn hate into love.

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“Master’s Delight” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about authority, domination, submission, and all the sexy connotations that go with it. Make no mistake. The sexy connotations are there. I’ve talked about them before. This is just a story inspired by them. Enjoy!

Authority was a tricky, but necessary component of life. Without authority, there could be no order. Without order, there could be no peace. That was the mantra that Erin Grant heard from her father since she was a child. Being an officer in the United States Marine Corp and an advocate of capable authority figures, he’d taught her and her three younger brothers the value of respecting authority.

However, as she grew into a beautiful young woman with a promising career in online marketing, Erin learned that most people didn’t appreciate authority. If anything, they went out of their way to fight it.

“Seriously, Brandy, you need to stand your ground on this. If Jay won’t set a deadline, you need to give him an ultimatum.”

“You have a short memory, Marla. My sister tried that with her now ex-fiancé last year. Weren’t you with her when she threw her suitcase out on the front lawn?”

“This is different! Jay is your co-worker, not your squeeze. You got to make clear that his authority ends where your duties begin.”

“Says the woman who’s been bossing around her boss for the past two years, which I’m sure shows up on every paycheck.”

That was just the latest in a contentious debate between Brandy Wyn and Marla Isaac, two women with whom she shared a carpool. Every day, there seemed to be some major conflict going on within their department at the company. Most of the time, it related to someone not respecting another’s authority or someone attempting to assert their own. Erin had heard it so often that she already knew how it would play out.

It started with a disagreement. It escalated into a conflict. From there, it became a heated argument about who was right and who had the power to make that decision. Ultimately, there was a compromise. However, nobody ever seemed to get what they want and if it failed, nobody dared take responsibility.

That was why Erin often stayed out of those debates. She knew her role and was content to maintain it while refining her skills in the process. Her appreciation and respect for authority ensured she remained quiet during many of those conflicts, often keeping to herself and listening to music on her phone.

“What do you think, Erin?” Brandy asked her. “You work with Jay in marketing. Should I draw the line before he can undercut me?”

“What do you mean before?” Marla scoffed. “He already has!”

Erin rolled her eyes, already regretting being dragged into the debate.

“I don’t think I can offer much, Brand,” she told her. “I work with Jay, but we don’t step on each other’s toes. If we disagree, we refer to our boss.”

“That can’t be your solution to everything,” Brandy said. “Randy is a smart guy, but I need to take point on this project. It’s how I’m going to get that promotion when Jessie retires!”

“You honestly think that’s going to tip the scales?” said Marla. “I get you want to be the boss for a change, but there’s a long list of people eying that spot and leading one project won’t put you on the inside track.”

“It sure as hell can’t hurt. If you want people to respect your voice, you got to put your foot down when you get a shot!”

The debate raged on. Erin tried not to listen. At one point, she heard Marla suggest that Brandy plant a half-empty bottle of whiskey in Jay’s desk in the hopes he’ll get drunk at the next staff meeting. It was a ridiculous idea, but one Brandy seemed to take seriously.

That was the problem with those who didn’t appreciate authority. In their efforts to oppose it, they often undermined it and themselves in the process. In the end, nobody won. Nobody trusted anybody to deliver in their duties. Erin felt like an anomaly with the way she respected authority. Then again, given just how much she respected it compared to everyone around her, she probably was.

She managed to shut out the rest of the debate until she arrived at the quiet suburban house she shared with her husband, Robert. After checking her watch, Erin saw that she was right on time for what she and her love had planned for the evening. She couldn’t get out of the van fast enough.

“Have a nice night, Erin,” said Patrick, the driver of the van.

“You too,” Erin said politely.

“And give some thought to how we can mind-fuck Jay tomorrow!” Marla added. “We need a plan.”

“I’ll…give it some though,” she said with a half-grin.

“Yeah right,” scoffed Brandy.

The two women looked like they were in for a restless and miserable evening. Erin tried not to pity them too much. It wasn’t her fault their approach to confronting authority was so strenuous. Not many shared her attitudes towards it and with every passing year, fewer and fewer people seemed to appreciate it.

“If only they knew,” Erin said under her breath as she entered the front door. “Getting what you want doesn’t mean fighting authority. In fact, you can get plenty when you embrace it.”

Smiling to herself as she closed the door behind her and set her stuff aside, she checked her watch to ensure she was still on schedule. Whereas her co-workers agonized over how to seize authority for themselves, she intended to take a different approach to fulfilling her goals.

True to her punctual nature, Erin took out her phone and sent a text message to her husband to let her know they were on track. Afterwards, she kicked off her shoes, walked over to the kitchen, and plugged her phone into its charger. She then got herself a quick drink of water, assuming she would need to be hydrated for the night’s activities. Before she finished the glass, though, her phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from her husband. It contained only a few words with simple instructions.

“I’m ready. Come on down.”

Already, Erin felt the excitement in her brewing. Her heart raced with anticipation. The prospect of an eventful evening to balance out another mundane day at the office had uncanny appeal, but pursuing it meant doing so required an entirely different approach to authority.

“Not everything needs to be taken,” Erin said as she placed her glass aside. “Some of the greatest rewards in life are given…if you’re willing to trust others to give them.”

Vast rewards awaited and Erin eagerly pursued them. Following her excitement, she made her way to the basement entrance in the foyer. Outside, it looked like just another door within a suburban house. However, few doors had a small camera hanging over it or a heavy electronic lock from the other side. The neighbors once joked they must have been very protective of their laundry. They were only partially right.

“I’m ready too,” she said to the camera. “Please, let me in.”

She heard nothing. The light on the camera just flickered and the door remained locked. At first, she thought her message hadn’t gotten through. Then, she remembered her mistake.

“I apologize. It’s been a long day,” Erin said. “Please, let me in…Master.”

The way she said that last word, lacing it with a mix of reverence and seduction, did the trick. The door unlocked. The light on the camera changed from red to green. The special activity she’d planned with her husband had begun.

“Thank you for your mercy, Master,” she said graciously. “I intend to make it up to you.”

Confident in her intentions, she opened the heavy door and descended the steps leading into the basement. There, she encountered a setup that she’d seen many times before, but it still got every part of her body hot with excitement…some more so than others.

Her master had really gone the extra mile. Once again, he gave their little S&M dungeon his special touch. As always, the windows were blacked out, the lamps were shaded with red veils, and an array of black candles were set up on special stands all around what had once been a typical cellar. In the center of the room, however, the real spectacle awaited her.

Her master had been working on it for weeks. It was a special bondage rack, one that required parts not easily found in a typical hardware store and expertise not typical of a middle-aged man who worked at a private security firm. It looked like a fancy massage table that had been modified with shackles, straps, and a few other familiar accessories that Erin knew very well. In addition to the rock, there was also a small table containing some special instruments that should facilitate the night’s activities.

If her co-workers had seen it, especially Brandy and Marla, they would’ve been aghast. If someone even joked about them using it, they would’ve been outraged. From their perspective, the idea of any woman subjecting herself to such denigration had to be damaged or worse. Erin could only laugh at how wrong they would’ve been.

“Master…once again, you’ve outdone yourself,” Erin said in amazement.

Not the least bit repulsed, she approached the heart of the dungeon. With each step she took, she felt herself drawn into a unique world with a very specific power structure. In that structure, she had no authority, whatsoever.

She wasn’t a colleague, a partner, or even a participant. She was a slave, plain and simple. She lived to serve a master and by serving him well, the benefits were many.

“My dear, subservient whore,” came a powerful voice over a loudspeaker. “Welcome back to our special domain.”

Every word echoed with such power and not just because it came through a speaker system that had been built into the walls. Still only a few steps from the bondage rack, Erin looked around until she located the other camera mounted on the wall. Instantly, she felt her master’s powerful presence.

“Greetings, Master,” Erin said with a respectful bow. “How may I serve you this evening?”

“Spoken like a good slave,” the voice responded. “You can start by stripping out of those itchy clothes.”

The young woman nodded obediently and complied with her master’s wishes. As she unbuttoned her blouse and removed her skirt, she made sure she stood in full view of the camera. She hadn’t forgotten how much her master loved watching her undress. It always pleased him, watching her reveal her womanly body to him. She already could feel his lustful eyes on her, especially as she removed her bra and panties.

After completing her impromptu striptease, she remained standing in the middle of the room, knowing multiple cameras were now focused on her naked body. She made no effort to cover her breasts, butt, or pussy. Erin wanted her master to admire her. She made it clear with the way she stood that she was a loyal, obedient slave. She was there to serve her master.

“Beautiful,” her master’s voice said through the speakers, “a loyal slave, naked and eager to serve their master’s desires. You are eager, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master…very much so,” Erin replied.

“You say that, but I am unconvinced.”

The door on the other side of the cellar opened. It led to an area that served as a laundry room and a hub for the various electronics that she and her master had set up. It was always dark, but even within the tinted lighting, she could make out the imposing figure that emerged.

“Master,” she said with a mix of reverence and lust.

He reacted favorably to her words and tone. Wearing only a pair of denim pants, heavy black boots, and a matching leather vest that revealed part of his upper body, he carried himself with the poise of a titan. Erin couldn’t help but cower before him as he approached her naked form.

On the surface, Robert Grant might not have seemed that imposing. He’d met her friends, co-workers, and neighbors. From their perspective, he was just an ordinary middle-aged man who few recognized on a crowded street. He wasn’t that tall or heavily muscled. However, he was also a former soldier who had a strong appreciation for discipline. Unlike her, though, he preferred imposing it, rather than respecting it.

“My sweet little sex slave,” he said to her. “You weren’t lying. You are horny.”

He spoke as though his will made it a reality. As if to exact that will, he reached between her legs and cupped the outer folds of her womanhood. He didn’t ask permission and she didn’t resist. He was her master. She was his slave. There was no need.

“It must have been a stressful day,” her master said. “You’re so wet. It seems you need your master’s loving touch.”

“Yes, I need it. I need it so bad!” Erin said, barely hiding her desperation.

“Lucky for you, I’m fair and loving master. I take care of my slaves. I even reward them.”

Every word echoed with strength. Within that same strength was a distinct brand of love and care that only a master could offer. That was what Erin craved. It was what brought her such immense satisfaction.

She continued standing obedient before her husband/master, gazing at him with desperate eyes as he fondled her pussy while caressing her face, admiring both her naked body and her willful obedience. She knew how much that turned him on. She could already see a large bulge protruding in his pants.

Whether it was from her stripping naked or her subservience to his powerful touch, her master was aroused. That, on top of her own escalating arousal, filled their little dungeon with the thick scene of sex.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” her master said while cupping her chin. “I’m going to strap you to my new bondage rack. I’m going to render you completely bound. Then, I’m going to please myself with your submissive form. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master…very clear,” Erin said without hesitation.

“Resist, and it will get uncomfortable. Submit, and you too will be pleased. By pleasing your master, you will in turn please yourself. Trust in me…trust in your master’s authority and I will make sure of it.”

The dynamic was rigid, but simple. To be a good slave, she had to trust in her master. To be a good master, he had to honor her trust. It was the unspoken power of authority. It wasn’t just about one person imposing on another. Trust was what granted that power in the first place. By using it wisely, both master and slave could benefit.

“I trust you, Master,” Erin said while gazing intently into Robert’s eyes. “I submit to your authority. I freely offer you my heart and my body.”

“Very good, my beautiful slave,” he replied with an affectionate grin. “From this point forward, you will not speak unless I request it. My authority over you is total.”

As if to seal the deal, Robert leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips. Still grasping her chin and cupping her pussy, Erin could feel the literal and figurative power he had over her. To some, it was scary, giving someone that much latitude over their body and will. For her, it was nothing short of exhilarating.

Upon parting their lips, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and led her to the bondage rack. Erin followed him freely, not resisting in the slightest, even when he lightly slapped her butt to make her move faster. If anything, that got her even more excited. It showed just how eager her master was to exercise his power over her.

“Get on the table,” her master demanded. “Get on all fours and face the wall.”

Erin wordlessly complied. The leather of the rack was already hot on her naked skin. It had definitely been a massage table at one point, but the modifications her master had made ensured it wouldn’t be that relaxing.

Once in position, her master did the rest. First, he grabbed her arms and placed them in shackles that were attached to the side of the rack. He then did the same with her ankles, ensuring her legs were spread in the process. The hot air flowing between her legs spread the scent of arousal within the confined room. However, the extent of her submission still wasn’t done.

Her limbs now restrained, Robert activated a mechanism within the rack that raised a metal bar so that it was just under her abdomen. It was cold to her naked skin, but she understood its purpose. Between it and the restraints, her hips and butt remained elevated, the path to her sex clear and unobstructed. Any resistance at that point would’ve been futile, but Erin had no intention of resisting.

“There! Bound, naked, and secure, like a good little sex slave,” her master said as he admired her form. “I like what I’m seeing thus far.”

“Thank you, Master,” Erin said.

“Hey! Did I give you permission to talk?”

Erin gasped to herself. In her aroused state, she momentarily undermined her master’s control over her. That was a clear violation. All her life, she’d been taught to abhor such violations. Her submission to her master was no exception.

“You spoke out of line,” Robert said, treating it as serious as any crime. “For that, you must be punished. Affirm that you will accept your master’s punishment.”

“I…I accept,” Erin said meekly.

“Good, my slave. Now, brace yourself for your master’s authority!”

The excitement kept growing. She felt the heat between her legs intensify. She heard her master making some preparations at a nearby table, but couldn’t see what they entailed. Not knowing only added to the excitement.

She was already short of breath. She barely had a chance to catch it by the time her master walked around to the front of the bondage rack and stood in front of her. Looking up, he towered over her naked form with such power and grandeur. It was akin to looking up at a demigod. She could only gaze up at him with submissive awe.

“Even good slaves need reminders,” he told her. “Be sure to commit this to memory.”

He spoke like a true disciplinarian, but one who understood and cared for what it meant. That was part of what had drawn Erin to her husband and master in the first place. Her appreciation for such a rigid approach drew him to her, as well, and it showed in a big way.

As he loomed over her, he undid his belt and pulled down his pants, freeing a throbbing-hard erection that had probably been building since she entered the dungeon. Upon kicking off his pants, he stood at the head of the bondage rack and grasped both sides of her head. He then aligned the tip of his penis with her lips.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Erin obeyed her master once again. His grip on her head intensified. Finally, with a firm jerk of the hips, he shoved his manhood into her mouth and began humping her face.

Her punishment had officially begun.

“That’s it!” Robert said intently. “Take your master’s cock. Suck it! Lick it! Take it all!”

“Ungh!” was all Erin got out.

It was overwhelming at first. Robert was exceptionally endowed. His average stature hinted otherwise, but when he got fully aroused, his dick was big enough to test anyone’s jaw muscles. For her master, though, Erin endured the strain.

She willfully and eagerly sucked him off, gagging and slurping along his length as he aggressively humped her face. It was messy and rough, but that was appropriate. It was punishment, after all. She had spoken out of line. Her master was right to discipline her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been a capable master.

“Yes! My slave…accept your punishment! Respect your master!” Robert said, his presence radiating with domineering power.

He clung harder to her head, running his fingers through her hair as he face-fucked her without restraint. Erin, like a good slave, kept taking it. She never diverted her gaze from him, looking up as his member slithered rapidly between her lips. Already, her makeup was running and saliva dripped down her chin, an unambiguous effect of a submissive slave and a powerful master.

Punishment or not, the sight of her master’s pleased expression gave Erin a unique fulfillment. Only someone enamored by authority like her could understand such a feeling. Her punishment was her master’s joy. His fulfillment, in turn, became hers. It was a perfect embodiment of a master and slave embracing their roles.

From those roles, her own arousal escalated. Being restrained, dominated, and punished turned the mentality of a slave into a tangible feeling. Already, she craved more of it. However, she could only get that by serving her master and accepting her punishment.

Finally, just as her jaw began to falter from the strain, her master ceased his movements and withdrew.

“There! Your punishment is complete,” Robert told her. “You did well, slave. Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Master,” she said obediently.

“Now that you appreciate my authority once more, you’re able to embrace its many benefits. Are you ready to embrace it?”

“Yes, Master. I’m ready!”

He knelt down and caressed her face. Unlike before, he was gentle and caring, looking upon her with affection rather than domination. It was another key trait of a strong master. When a slave accepted their punishment, they proved worthy of mercy. Robert, more than most masters, was capable of extremely satisfying mercy.

“I believe you,” he told her, “and because I’m a good master, I intend to reward your loving submission.”

“Thank you, Master. Thank you!”

Already breathing hard, her anticipation rising with each passing second, she watched as her loving master made good on his promise. Still bound and submissive, not resisting in the slightest, he could’ve done anything he wanted to her. However, she trusted him to do only what was necessary to ensure that both master and slave were satisfied.

As part of that effort, he retrieved another item from the table. It was an orange ball-gag, one custom-fitted for her mouth. Without saying a word, he put it in her mouth and secured it with ease, effectively silencing her and deepening her submission.

Then, he walked around to the other end of the bondage rack. At that point, she couldn’t see what he was doing. She had to trust him even more, believing her master knew best how to please her.

“A good slave is also a robust slave,” he said to her. “You’re tougher than most. You’ve proven that time and again. That’s why, as your master, I must be skilled in applying my power.”

There was a brief silence. Erin heard him retrieving something else from the table. She heard a bottle pop open, followed by the feeling of thick, lubricating gel pouring down her buttocks and inner thighs. Being so aroused, it wasn’t entirely necessary.

Then, she felt something hard and phallic-shaped press against her asshole.

“A little something I procured the other day,” Robert said seductively, “something I knew my slave would enjoy.”

With no further warning, he inserted the object into her. Erin’s gasped at the sharp feeling, her reaction muffled by the ball gag. She quickly identified it as a metal dildo, one specifically designed for anal sex. Her master had used one on her before, but only rare occasions.

That was because she loved anal sex and had never been shy about it. Her master often used that as an added reward for special occasions. Whatever the occasion might have been, she figured she’d been an exceptional slave because she felt the dildo vibrate.

“Mmmff!” Erin moaned, practically squealing through her gag.

“You feel that, don’t you?” her master said in his deep, authoritative tone. “I know you love it. A good master knows what his slave loves and believe me. I know.”

His certainty reflected his authority. The way he wielded it reminded Erin why she fell in love with Robert Grant and why she loved being his slave.

He knew how to dominate her in a way that made her want to be dominated. Already, she could feel a steady stream of sensations coursing through her body, the vibrating dildo stimulating her depths. She trembled under the feeling, already drooling through her ball gag as she descended further into a world of total submission.

Bound, gagged, and eager for more, Erin braced herself for what came next.

“I also know you love this,” he said, leaning over and whispering into her ear.

With the dildo still stimulating her anally, she felt her master position himself at the other end of the bondage race. From there, he grabbed hold of her waist with that strong, domineering grip of his and guided the tip of his rigid penis to her still-moist slit. He didn’t tease or tantalize her as a less certain lover would have. As soon as their bodies were aligned, he thrust his hips forward hard and confidently, driving his manly flesh into her womanly depths.

“Mhmm!” Erin gasped, her blissful delight apparent in her submissive squeals.

“Ohhh yeah!” her master grunted. “So hot and tight…you want this. You need this…my beautiful slave.”

His grip on her waist tighten as he began moving his hips, pumping his cock inside her throbbing depths with great vigor. He was not gentle or careful. He exerted the full force of his domination over her, rocking her body and the entire submission rack. The resulting sensations compounded the feeling evoked by the vibrating dildo, creating a steady onslaught of ecstasy that cascaded through her body.

It was incredible.

It was beautiful.

It was a perfect act of utter domination and complete submission.

From that feeling, a special passion emerged. Robert was her loving master and she was his willing slave. By trusting him with her heard and her body, he delivered to her a merciful ecstasy. By submitting to him, she gave him the trust and respect that made his authority strong. It made the act of exercising power as exhilarating as the pleasure it produced, creating the ultimate blend of intimacy and desire.

Together, Erin descended with him into a daze of bliss. Bound and gagged, she took the brunt of his lust, her body rocking every time his manly member plunged into her womanly depths. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled their dungeon, supplementing his dominating grunts and her muffled moans. The bondage rack trembled under the weight of their movements, but the restraints held up. That ensured she remained completely submissive when she achieved orgasm, just like she liked it.

“Mmm!” she exclaimed through the gag.

“Yes, my slave! Come! Come for your master!” Robert proclaimed.

He gave her buttocks a hard spank, as if to trigger her release on command. It worked almost too well. The resulting rush of pleasure was so intense she nearly passed out.

It was like a volcano erupting within her core, the onslaught of sensations coming together in a single burst. The feeling rippled through her from head to toe. It was a feeling she hadn’t actively pursued. She achieved it through submission to her master and his loving domination of her. It didn’t just leave her deeply satisfied. It further strengthened his authority over her.

“I’m going to keep fucking you, slave,” he told her. “You’re going to keep coming. Then, I’ll come…and your submission will be complete!”

That wasn’t a warning or a boast. That was a master simply telling his slave how things were going to be. Only a master of true authority could hope to speak with such certainty. Her husband, Robert Grant, was that kind of master.

He continued dominating her with his sex, even after the orgasmic sensations abated. He kept humping her and groping her bound flesh, squeezing her breasts and swatting her ass. Once again, he tested her ability to absorb his lust, as well as his love. As always, she passed with flying colors, achieving more orgasms in the process.

Erin wasn’t sure how many she’d had. She just made sure to soak in every last sensation as she embraced her submission, taking her master’s domination for as long as he needed. He always enjoyed drawing it out, as if to prove how well he’d mastered his authority. He had nothing to prove to her, his loyal slave, but that never stopped him from pushing it to the utmost.

By the time he finally neared his peak, her butt was sore and her limbs were strained by the shackles. None of that mattered, though. Just as her master pushed himself in his domination, she too pushed herself in her submission.

“I’m close! My loyal slave…I’m so close!” her master proclaimed.

In a final culmination, he imparted his last outburst of lust, rocking her body so hard that her restraints almost gave out. They held on just long enough for him to finally achieve his peak. When it hit, he let out a of domineering grunt worthy of a skilled and loving master.

His member throbbed.

His nails dug into her naked flesh.

His sweat mixed with hers, showing the extent of his exertion.

Their intimate act complete, her lover withdrew from her and removed the vibrating dildo. He also leaned over and removed the ball gag, finally allowing her to catch her breath and rest her jaw.

As their intimate fluids mixed within her, the finality of what she and Robert had done set in. She willingly submitted to him and he eagerly dominated her. From it, they achieved something beautiful…something that wasn’t possible without a trust and love built on a foundation of authority.

“I love you…my sexy, submissive slave,” Robert said to her.

“I love you too…my wonderful, loving master,” Erin replied.

“I’m going to unlock your restraints,” he said. “I think I’ve sufficiently asserted my authority for today.”

“That you have,” she said, “but strong authority always benefits from frequent reminders.”

“Don’t worry, Erin. I’ve got elaborate plans for plenty more reminders!”

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Daily Sexy Musings: The Sex Appeal Of Power

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Power is sexy. It’s not always the most obvious kind of sex appeal and for some powerful individuals, it’s downright counter-intuitive. It’s still an undeniable force in our collective libido. From King Solomon to modern despots, power has been linked with sex appeal for as long as people have been horny.

Power, be it physical or political, is often both an ends and a means. When you’re in the presence of someone powerful, they can do things for you and others that no ordinary human being can do. They can snap their fingers and make random people dance in their honor. They can procure resources that are difficult to get, even for those with ample money.

When you’re around that kind of power, it’s bound to affect you. Sometimes, it’s scary and for good reason. Powerful people are often the ones who commit egregious atrocities. At the same time, however, fear can be arousing. Your brain and your genitals don’t always know the difference and that can influence how you see someone’s sex appeal.

Powerful people don’t have to be beautiful. They don’t necessarily have to be brutal, either. However, gaining power and wielding it requires a level of charisma that’s bound to attract others on a primal level. Regardless of how you feel about the current people in power, there’s no denying that they have an appeal that goes beyond sexiness.

This Daily Sexy Musing acknowledges that appeal, as well as the unique aspects surrounding it. We may not always like it and it may not always bring out the best in people, but it’s influence is profound and, when power is wielded just right, it’s effects can be pretty intense.

At first, I’m afraid. I feel the dread washing over me from head to toe. With every step you take, I tremble harder. I know who you are and what you’re capable of. Your hands can do plenty, but it’s your words that can move people and mountains. In the face of such power, what hope do I have?

Through that fear, another feeling emerges.

Through that fear, I see you in another light.

Through that fear, my dread clashes with something deeper.

As I tremble, you gaze upon me with imposing eyes. Without saying a word, you let me know that we are not equals. You are the titan while I am the insect. My worth is trivial. Yours will transcend the ages. On a whim, you could end me, but you don’t. That alone compounds the feeling.

I’m in danger, but I’m also excited.

I’m in awe, but I’m also disgusted.

I’m so afraid, but I’m also aware.

I’m so repulsed, but I’m also intrigued.

The conflict rages within me. I don’t know what to do. I can only cower in your presence, either hoping for mercy or bracing for wrath. I have no control. You have the power. You make all the choices. My body and soul are literally in your hands.

Finally, you exercise your power. I remain still as a statue as you reach out and touch my face. As soon as your hand meets my skin, everything comes into place. Like magic, you shatter the dread and replace it with something else entirely. I continue to tremble, but for very different reasons.

I cannot escape it. My body and my heart betray me. I want you. My desires carry no weight, but yours has infinite worth. Your slightest touch radiates with the greatest intensity. Without words or actions, I’m drawn in. I offer myself to you.

Your power makes you so strong.

My weakness makes me so vulnerable.

Together, we achieve an intimate balance.

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