Tag Archives: love

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I lean in closer.

I whisper into your ear.

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

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

As we laugh, I draw you into a kiss.

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

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

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

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

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Daily Sexy Musing: Celebrating Role Playing

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can be a cop enticing a sexy suspect.

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

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

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

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

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

You can be whatever and whoever you want to be.

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

I am more than your lover.

You are more than mine.

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

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

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Daily Sexy Musing: Loving The Rough Stuff

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When it comes to celebrating love, romance, and everything in between, there’s a popular perception that it has to manifest in certain ways. We’ve seen it play out in movies, TV shows, and novels, some of which I’ve written. There has to be candles, rose petals, and Barry White music playing in the background. If sexy lingerie is somehow worked in, then that’s just a bonus.

From there, it plays out in a way that’s simple, but powerful. There’s plenty of tender kissing, a dash of loving sentiments whispered over the sound of the music, and the kind of tender caressing that makes every nerve shiver for all the right reasons. It’s sweet and sexy in its own right, but I believe there’s room for other kinds of romantic expression.

Not every couple is going to be content with sweet and soft gestures. Even those who enjoy it regularly will probably be in the mood for something else at some point. That’s where the rougher part of romance comes in. By that, I don’t just mean the kind of elaborate BDSM acts that made E. L. James rich. I’m talking about the kind of raw, physical outburst that puts a little something extra into lovemaking.

These days, it’s somewhat tricky to celebrate rough sex. It’s become taboo to be rough with any intimate partner. The reasons for this are many and I’ve already written multiple articles about the tricky politics surrounding it. For this Daily Sexy Musing, I just want to dig a bit deeper into the unique appeal of the rough stuff that often finds its way into a passionate romance. Enjoy!

It’s our night again. We’ve gotten through our day, clearing ourselves of any and all distractions. Now that the sun has set, our priorities align. I love you and you love me. Now, we turn that love into action.

The stage is set.

The moment has arrived.

The desire wells up inside us.

We come together and let our passions do the talking. It’s simple and direct. I feel your body in my arms, tasting your lips with mine and savoring every sensation. You return every gesture, letting love and lust converge into a singular feeling. I can tell you want me. I want you too. Tonight, we’re going to fulfill those wants. Then, just as the feeling escalates, we realize something.

It’s not enough.

We stop kissing. I look at you and you look at me. My arms tremble and your body shudders. The weight of hard truth sinks in. To hold each other, kiss each other, and make love to one another just won’t suffice. For this night, we crave something more.

I see a glint in your eye and a twitch in your face. In an instant, you transform from an innocent angel to a mischievous demon. Within me, humanity gives way to more primal instincts. The balance of love and lust tips in favor of lust. We don’t fight it. In fact, we embrace it. There’s a time and a place to make tender love. Tonight, is not that night.

I don’t just kiss your lips. I devour them.

I don’t just fondle your body. I smother it.

I don’t just remove your clothes. I rip them off.

There’s nothing gentle about what we do. There’s nothing sweet or soft about it, either. We make our way to the bed, ravaging one another’s bodies with our lips and hands. We collapse top the sheets. Our flesh comes together. We’re neither careful nor slow. We just take the most basic acts of intimacy and unleash our ounce of pent up desire.

Our bodies rock.

The bed rocks.

The world around us rocks.

Grunts replace moans. Crude words replace loving proclamations. We grab and grope, smothering and salivating over the sweet bliss we conjure. This is our love at its most unrefined. Rough yet sincere, we need not channel or temper it. There will be other nights for that. For now, we express our love in the roughest of ways. Whether gentle or raw, our passions remain true.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Sensual Deserts

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There’s something inherently sensual about the concept of desert, especially during the holidays. It comes after a hardy meal. It’s something you enjoy after you’ve fulfilled your primary need for substance. It’s not the least bit necessary. You could skip desert and still be perfectly content. However, why stop at contentment? Just being content is not the same as being satisfied.

I’ve always had a special fondness for desert. It actually predates my love of erotica/romance. I come from a family of skilled cooks who know how to make the sweetest, most savory deserts you can imagine. They help make every meal extra special. Even when I felt full, I always made an effort to enjoy desert. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate it in other more intimate ways.

A good desert is lot like making love. Sure, it fills a basic need, but that’s not the only reason we seek it. There’s a deeper, more meaningful aspect to it. Even though we could live without it, those extra sweet experiences are what make it worth living. This Daily Sexy Musing is my way of uniting the common threads that tie desert to making love. I hope it helps everyone work up an appetite, among other things. Enjoy!

I take my last bite. Our meal is complete. We’re both full, our bellies bloated and warm with food. The stress and rigors of the day have long since faded. We have done what we need to do. We have sustained and nourished our bodies, as needed.

However, we are not satisfied.

I see it in your eyes. I make damn sure you can see it in mine. Flushed with energy and nutrients, we no longer need concern ourselves with survival and hunger. After all, a good meal is only as good as what it allows us to do. With full stomachs, we can now pursue another critical need.

I reach across the table and take your hand in mine. Through my touch, I let you know the needs that remain unmet. With energy to spare and calories to burn, we are equipped to vent the full range of our passions. You mention desert, but we seek something sweeter than any treat.

I join you on the other side of the table.

I take you in my arms.

I taste you with my lips.

I stand ready to gorge with you on a different kind of meal.

Our hunger finally catches up with our desire, one need blending with another. Our breath contains the lingering smell of food. It supplements the hunger and the desire it inspires. What we need gives way to what we want. After a good meal, we have what we need to seek it.

We clear the table.

We shed the formal attire that hinders our pursuit.

We tap into the excess energy within our bodies.

Together, our flesh tastes one another. We dine on a new kind of delight, the ultimate desert after the perfect meal. What good food makes possible, great passion makes fulfilling. We don’t stop with a simple appetizer. We don’t hold back, even after the first course. We skip the formalities and get right to the succulent desert that awaits.

I take it in.

I share it with you.

Through our love, we taste pure ecstasy. It is, and always will be, our favorite desert.

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“Black Friday Bliss” A Sexy Short Story For Black Friday

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I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I certainly did. Don’t spend too much time digesting your desert because today is Black Friday. That’s right. It’s the unofficial start of the holiday shopping season, as though that didn’t begin the week before Halloween. As someone who loves to shop, I intend to take full advantage of it.

To get everyone in the spirit, here’s a sexy short story inspired by Black Friday shopping. Enjoy!

“Hey Tom! Are you nodding off on me again?” asked Allie Avinne from the passenger side of the car.

“What? No, of course not,” her husband, Tom Avinne quickly replied. “I was just resting my eyes, preparing myself for the big open.”

“Yeah, sure you were,” she said dryly.

“I’m serious! Hell, I’m still digesting Thanksgiving dinner. Even three cups of coffee can only go so far.”

“Lucky for you, it won’t have to.”

Allie playfully swatted her husband as he sat in the driver’s seat, looking like an athlete trying to psyche himself up for the championship game. He should’ve been used to it by now. Ever since she introduced him to her unique Black Friday tradition – one, ironically, that started with her first boyfriend in high school – he’d been dedicated to helping her keep it. She gave him plenty of incentive to do so, but it wasn’t without obstacles.

The clock on the dashboard read 4:30 in the morning. Most people were still asleep and/or hung over from Thanksgiving dinner. Less than 12 hours ago, she and Tom had enjoyed an eight-course meal, courtesy of her mother and grandmother. Allie was still digesting it, so much so that she could still taste her mother’s pumpkin pie on her breath. It made falling asleep easy that night easy, but waking up much harder.

On top of that, Tom wasn’t a morning person. In fact, he admitted on their first date that getting out of bed before sunrise for him was akin to running a mile with bricks strapped to his legs. That was partly why he worked erratic hours at the consulting company that his father co-founded. For 364 days of the year, she respected and accommodated those quirks. On Black Friday, though, she needed him to make an exception.

Just getting him up a half-hour ago had been a chore. Allie could tell he was still drowsy, despite having downed plenty of coffee. It wouldn’t be much longer, though. She also intended to reward him, true to her tradition.

“I know I say this every year, but thank you for doing this, Tom,” Ally told him in a more serious tone.

“You’re my wife, Allie,” he replied. “When I said ‘I do,’ I meant it…even if it meant waking up at some ungodly hour to sit in a parking garage this early.”

“It’s not just that,” she went on. “Since we got together – and even a little before that – I’ve made a big deal about keeping my life stable. I sure as hell don’t make it easy on myself or others. I haven’t since my dad died.”

“Yeah, that tends to affect the value of stability, especially when it happens to a kid.”

“Well, I’m not a kid anymore. I had to grow up faster than most after that. For years, everything was so erratic and unpredictable. Any bit of stability I could find became that much more precious. And this one – this crazy little thing I do on Black Friday, of all days – is one of those traditions that means more than most.”

To help reinforce her point, she undid her seatbelt and crawled over into the driver’s seat so that she straddled her husband’s lap. It wasn’t easy in the confined space of a mid-sized sedan, but Allie had become an expert at navigating such spaces over the year. By being in more intimate contact with her husband, especially with her pelvis pressing against his, it also helped raise Tom’s overall alertness.

As she hovered over him, the seat partially reclined so that he could lay back, Allie affectionately wrapped her arms around his neck. The drowsiness in his eyes quickly faded as his hands found their way to her hips. It triggered an instinctual reaction in both of them. From it, an important part of her Black Friday tradition started to manifest.

“My father might not have been a huge traditionalist, but he taught me the value of being proactive, especially around the holidays,” Allie said. “He always said getting out ahead of the curve often came with added bonuses.”

“Smart guy,” Tom said, his hand drifting down to her butt. “Bonuses are good.”

“That’s why he always took me shopping the day after Thanksgiving. We’d go bright and early, making sure we got all our Christmas shopping done by that afternoon. That way, we could enjoy the rest of the holidays.”

“I’ve heard this story before, but somehow it always gives me a boner.”

“I can feel that,” she teased. “The same year he died, I had to really coax my boyfriend into take me shopping on Black Friday.”

“And you didn’t make him wake up at the crack of dawn.”

“You’re right, but he still needed some extra incentive,” Allie continued. “Lucky for him – and my future husband, for that matter – I was young, horny, and in need of some holiday spirit. I like to think that from that day forward, I forged my own little tradition…one that I came to treasure even more after I met you.”

Her tone shifted from serious to seductive. They were coming up on that important half-hour between when they parked their car at the Central Plaza Mall and when the doors opened. It was in that special timeframe when tradition and passion converged.

“I know. I treasure it too,” Tom said, his voice matching her intensity, “even if it means dragging myself out of bed way earlier than usual.”

“Which makes providing that incentive I mentioned that much more important,” she said, “and in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a little time to kill.”

“Trust me, Allie. I noticed.”

As if to convince her that he was fully alert, Tom kissed her lovingly on the lips. Already restless with the holiday spirit, among other feelings, Allie kissed back and deepened their embrace. She slipped her hands under his jacket. He responded by squeezing her butt, something that sent warm shivers coursing through her body. It was enough to ignite a spark within the early-morning cold.

Before long, she and her husband were making out in the confines of the driver’s seat. The tradition had officially commenced. The setting was already perfect. It was still pitch-black out. As always, she and Tom made it a point to park in the corner of the parking garage near the top level, which was largely vacant. Anyone else arriving at the mall early parked close, getting those prime spots before rush hour traffic came pouring in. It gave them just enough privacy to do what they needed to do.

Making use of the dark and their spot, things quickly got heated. Tom put more tongue into his kissing. He also felt up her body, slipping his hand under her jacket and shirt to feel her skin underneath. Despite the cold, it made her feel so hot. Already, her inner thighs felt moist with arousal. She could feel the bulge in her husband’s pants growing harder by the second.

“Oh Allie,” Tom gasped, his arousal echoing in his voice.

“Mmm…you’re definitely alert now,” Allie said seductively. “Enough to take this to the back seat?”

“Definitely!” he said without hesitation.

Like a couple of horny teenagers – ironic, since the tradition started when she was a horny teenager – they climbed into the backseat of the car. It was a challenge, but Allie once again proved she’d mastered that part of the tradition. Between the spirit of Black Friday and just being really horny, they were as alert as anyone could be before sunrise.

Once in the back seat together, they began taking off their clothes. Tom had already set his jacket aside and undid his belt buckle. Allie just removed her jacket and began undoing her jeans. Even with her experience, it proved difficult.

“Off! Help me get this off!” Allie urged.

Her husband gladly obliged, grabbing the hem of her pants and pulling them down her legs, removing her boots in the process. Now in her panties, shirt, and bra, she returned the favor by helping Tom out of his pants as well, pulling them down his legs along with his boxers, allowing his erect manhood to pop free.

“Looks like part of you has been awake for quite a while,” she teased.

“Speak for yourself,” Tom quipped.

After kicking off his pants, he pulled her back into an embrace, kissing her passionately and letting their lower bodies become entwined once more. As they their lips twirled, he grabbed the side of her panties and removed them. Allie adjusted her hips accordingly and once they were off, she spread her legs and welcomed him into her intimate grasp.

Now pinned on her back and naked from the waist down, Tom hovered over her and stepped up the heated make-out session they’d begun in the front seat. Hands continued to roam and bare skin rubbed up against bare skin. Their shirts remained on and while Allie had intended to remove it, time was a factor.

“Come, my love,” she said. “Take me…right here.”

“At this hour…on Black Friday…in a parking lot,” Tom said. “Damn, I love you!”

Grinning with joy that would make Santa Clause envious, her loving husband did as she requested. True to tradition and desire, he grabbed hold of her hips and entered her with a focused thrust of the hips. That powerful feeling of hard manly flesh merging with wet feminine flesh filled her hot sensations. Beyond the intimate bliss that often came with their sex, the extra heat perfectly countered the early-morning cold.

“Oohhh Tom!” Allie purred.

He was more than alert at that point. He might have been more alert than anyone in that time zone. Whether it was due to passion or the coffee kicking in, Tom made love to her with a vigor usually reserved for their most passionate moments.

He was thorough and focused, like a man on a mission who just happened to have a big holiday meal to burn off. He rocked her world – and the car, for that matter – as he worked his body against hers in a procession of rhythmic movements. The wet smacking sound of their flesh colliding filled the car, along with the grunts and moans of bliss. Tom buried his face in her neck to muffle his grunts while she dug her nails into his neck, soaking in every sensation.

As he made love to her, his hands snuck up her shirt again, reaching under her bra and fondling her breasts. Tom knew her body well enough to know how much she liked having her breasts rubbed a certain way during sex. He always did that when he wanted to give her that extra push to the brink or orgasm. In the spirit of the holidays and her kinky Black Friday tradition, it worked even better than usual.

“Tom! Oh Tom! I…I’m coming!” she cried out.

“My early gift to you,” he whispered into her ear.

Even if Tom wasn’t a morning person, the man had a way with words. Allie swore those words, and the tone in which he said them, triggered an orgasm almost instantly.

It hit her in a rush that might as well have been a Christmas miracle. Her nails still dug into his neck, Allie curled her toes and threw her head back against the window as she climaxed hard. Inner muscles throbbed and tender flesh burned as ripples of pleasure coursed through her being. It was such a hot feeling and with the temperature well-below freezing outside, it was all the more satisfying.

“Mmm…Tom,” Allie said in a sexual daze. “You make Black Friday special!”

“For the woman I love, how can I not?” he said, already short of breath.

“And for the man I love, expect me to return the favor!”

Knowing the tradition wasn’t quite complete, Allie pulled him into another passionate kiss. Parts of her body were still reeling, burning with post-orgasmic bliss, but she didn’t wait for a full recovery. Her husband, who had to really strain himself to keep her favorite Black Friday tradition, just made love to her and gave her an orgasm before five in the morning. That kind of love and dedication deserved a reward.

His dick still hard and his passions still strong, Allie shifted their bodies so that he sat in the middle of the back seat with her straddling his waist again. Their flesh only parted briefly. Once her pelvis aligned with his member, she thrust her hips downward and drove his member back into her depths. From there, she began riding his cock with the same vigor he’d done with her.

“Oh Allie!” Tom grunted. “So hot…so tight!”

“That’s it, my love,” Allie said in a seductive tone. “Let me get you in the holiday spirit!”

In keeping with that effort, she lifted up her shirt while their bodies kept rocking. She then pushed her husband’s face right into her cleavage, allowing him to taste and savor her fleshy mounds that had been covered to that point.

He showed his appreciation, laughing and moaning in delight while holding onto her hips. With every gyration of her hips, he supplemented her movements with his powerful arms. Her folds slithered along his manly length with such ease. It kept the rhythm heated, as well as the car. It was so heated that parts of the windows fogged up. In such cold weather, that was quite an accomplishment and one Allie took pride in nearly every Black Friday.

Between the heat and her husband’s fondness of her breasts, she easily guided him to the brink of his own sexual peak. With a few thorough motions of her hips, she embraced him closer as he neared his own taste of holiday ecstasy.

“Ooh I’m coming, Allie! I’m going to…come!” he moaned, his voice mostly muffled by her breasts.

“Ture to tradition, my love,” Allie said with a beaming grin.

With her body and love, she carried him past the threshold. She felt it as his member throbbed and his grip on her intensified, the waves of his release surging through him as it had done with her moments earlier.

As he indulged in the spirit of the kinky tradition, their bodies stopped moving. The heat they’d created lingered, their mostly-naked bodies now glistening with a light sweat. It made for a powerful moment of passion, one Allie capped off with another affectionate embrace and a soft kiss.

They remained in that embrace until the ecstasy passed. Their flesh parted, but a light afterglow remained. As Allie caught her breath, she locked eyes with her husband once more. The sun wasn’t going to be up for a while, but he was totally awake.

“It’s official. We’re ready for Black Friday!” Tom said, now brimming with energy.

“Spoken like a man who appreciates my holiday traditions,” Allie said playfully.

“What can I say? A tradition that allow me to make love to my wife, get my Christmas shopping done, and burn off Thanksgiving dinner…that’s just too damn appealing.”

“Appealing enough to wake up at four in the morning once a year?”

“Definitely!” he said without hesitation. “Now, let’s get dressed and start shopping! We’re deep in the afterglow of the holiday spirit. Let’s make good use of it!”

 

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“A Thanksgiving Tradition” A Sexy Short Story

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First off, Happy Thanksgiving! I hope everyone out there has a safe, happy, and sexy holiday. In celebration, I wrote a sexy short story that I hope will help everyone work up an appetite in the best possible way. Enjoy!

“Are you hungry, Tanya?” asked Jeff Keniman.

“I’m starving,” replied Tanya, sounding as eager as anyone could on the day before Thanksgiving.

“Good,” he said, “because this is just an appetizer. And I need to make damn sure these sweet potatoes are perfect before your folks arrive tomorrow.”

“And you will. That, I promise you.”

It might have been the most redundant statement either of them could’ve said. He and Tanya had been together long enough to know the drill. She knew what day of the year it was. She’d come to know his unique “traditions” when it came to the holidays. Thanksgiving brought with it many traditions. However, it was the day before Thanksgiving that had one of his favorite traditions.

The stage was already set. He and Tanya spent the afternoon setting up the dining room, adding some extra tables to accommodate the dozen-or-so guests set to arrive tomorrow morning. They’d unpacked their nicest tablecloth, silverware, and dishes for the occasion. At the moment, though, the fancy stuff was piled up on a chair in the corner. Instead, the table lay bare, occupied by two plates and several bowls of food.

Technically, it was their dinner for the night and the last major meal they would have before Thanksgiving. However, Jeff didn’t plan on treating it like just another meal. True to the tradition that he and Tanya cherished, it was a special kind of appetizer.

“I’ve got the sweet potatoes here and the stuffing ready,” Jeff said as he stood on the other side of the table. “I’ve tweaked the amount of butter and pepper. I think you’ll taste the difference.”

“I hope so,” Tanya said, already sounding festive. “I’ve made some changes to my mashed potatoes recipe as well. I hope you enjoy it just as much.”

“Well, there’s only one way to be sure,” he teased.

“Correction…only one way that’ll make Thanksgiving more memorable!”

Jeff laughed. His wife had a quirky sense of humor. He’d been with other women before, but none who appreciated his holiday traditions as much as she did. If anything, she appreciated them even more.

With the food on the table, still fresh out of the oven, he and Tanya began the first step in their pre-holiday celebration. That involved taking off their clothes, underwear and all. Tanya couldn’t get naked fast enough, stripping out of the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d been wearing all afternoon. She didn’t even have a bra underneath. She’d clearly been looking forward to their special tradition. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

“These clothes had flour stains on them anyways,” she said curtly.

“That’s your excuse every year,” Jeff teased.

“Spoken like someone who know it’s his turn to do the laundry?”

“Did I say I minded?” he quipped.

As his wife kicked off her panties, Jeff slipped out of his jeans and shirt. He also set aside the apron he always wore when cooking fancy meals. He swore Tanya got turned on by it, but she’d never admitted it. She didn’t have to. Once free of clothing, he could tell from across the table that she was aroused. Her inner thighs made that abundantly clear. She was also hungry, a potent combination for any holiday.

Not one to keep an eager wife waiting, Jeff volunteered to go first. He picked up the bowl of sweet potatoes from the table and sat down at the chair located at the head of the table. His wife soon joined him.

“I made a little extra,” Jeff said, “but don’t gorge too much. You’ll want to save some room for tomorrow.”

“I know the drill, love,” she said. “Now, are you going to get on with it or do I have to do the heavy lifting.”

“Well, it does work better when we coordinate, so…”

Jeff didn’t need to finish. His wife had already decided that she was going to play an active role in their little tradition. He didn’t mind in the slightest. That usually worked out better for the both of them.

As he held the bowl of sweet potatoes in one hand, his very beautiful and very naked wife sat down on his lap, not avoiding it when her inner thighs made contact with his penis. That was enough to get the blood flowing in the right directions, but there would be time for that later. First and foremost, they had to test his new recipe.

“Say no more,” Tanya said playfully. “I’ll gladly help.”

“I hoped you would,” he said.

In the spirit of shared tradition, they each dipped their hand in the bowl of sweet potatoes and smeared large clumps of it on his chest. It was still piping hot. His skin burned slightly from the hot food touching his naked flesh, but he didn’t mind. If anything, it got his blood flowing even faster.

“It smells so good. It feels so good, too,” said Tanya as she smeared the potatoes over his nipples. “I hope that extends to the taste.”

“Well, by all means, my love…bon appetit,” said Jeff in his most seductive voice.

She was already drooling and not just because of the potatoes. He could see it in her eyes. She craved more than just the savory taste of his famous sweet potatoes.

Like a hungry animal unleashed, she buried her face in his chest, sloppily devouring the potatoes. The feeling of her tongue lapping up the buttery delight sent sensations of delight coursing through his body. Tanya had always been skilled in terms of using her tongue in intimate situations. That served her even well when delicious food was involved.

“Mmm…I take it you like the new recipe,” Jeff said as he smeared more on his chest.

“It’s delicious!” she exclaimed.

“Then, how about I have a taste?”

While Tanya made quick work of the potatoes on his chest, he gathered up one last handful and smeared it on her breasts. That evoked from her a squeal of the delight, the kind that he only heard during certain times of the year. True to the spirit of the holidays, that only made it more special.

“Ooh! Fresh out of the oven,” Tanya said.

“Just like I like it!” Jeff said.

Tanya, having had her share, rose up a bit in the chair so that her potato-covered breasts were right in his face. Usually, Jeff took a moment to admire his wife’s voluptuous mounds. Being more hungry than horny at the moment, he gladly made an exception.

Drawn in by both the smell of fresh sweet potatoes and his love’s ample breasts, Jeff dug in just as she had, lapping up the savory food while simultaneously tasting her naked flesh. It was as delicious as he’d hoped and in more ways than one. His sweet potatoes had turned out better than he’d hoped, but they tasted extra delicious off a beautiful woman’s breasts.

“Mmm! These are good!” Jeff said, his voice muffled by her breasts.

“I think you got the butter and pepper just right…so very right,” Tanya said, purring with delight as he gorged.

Those sexy purrs encouraged him even more. Jeff was extra thorough, licking and suckling every last bit of sweet potato off her breasts. He was extra thorough with her nipples, which had become very erect after plenty of licking. It evoked reactions beyond basic hunger. He could feel her lightly grinding her pelvis against his, getting his dick even harder. It helped his horniness catch up to his hunger, but not by much.

As Jeff finished his meal, she hugged him close so that his face was perfectly meshed within her fleshy mounds. Even after most of the potatoes were gone, her skin still tasted delicious. She was just as thorough, using her fingers to gather up what remained of the potatoes on his chest. Once it was all gone, they finally met in a messy kiss, the smell of buttery sweet potatoes on their breath.

“Your cooking skills never cease to amaze me, Jeff,” Tanya said.

“And I love how much that turns you on,” Jeff teased.

“It’s one of the many reasons I married you,” she said, “but I also happen to know what turns you on as well. And since I don’t want my mashed potatoes to get cold, what do you say we try those out next?”

“Do you honestly expect me to argue?”

“Nope! I just hope you appreciate how seriously I take holiday dining.”

The seductive undertone to her voice was beyond dispute. It so captivated Jeff that he barely moved from the chair when Tanya got up and climbed up onto the dining room table so that her legs dangled over the edge. She then reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes that she’d finished less than fifteen minutes ago. Once in hand, she leaned back on the table, gathered up a handful, and smothered it all over her inner thighs.

“Mashed potatoes and pussy,” Jeff said distantly. “That pretty damn serious.”

“Then, I hope you’re every bit as serious as testing my recipe,” she said.

Jeff instinctively licked his lips, already drooling at the prospect of tasting his wife’s cooking, among other things. He watched as she piled up a mound of mashed potatoes on her pussy, spreading her legs and making sure it covered the outer parts of her womanhood. He didn’t think it was possible for fresh potatoes to smell better. Every holiday, he was proven wrong.

“This is why I love the holidays,” he said with a grin.

Before Tanya could finish smearing all the potatoes, Jeff got up and knelt down so that his face was perfectly aligned with her inner thighs. He then grabbed hold of her inner thighs and pushed them apart, giving him a clear path to her potato-covered snatch. The line between hunger and arousal had officially vanished. Like an animal gorging on its favorite treat, he dug in and began eating his wife out, along with her tasty mashed potatoes.

“Oohhh!” Tanya moaned out. “Happy holidays, indeed!”

Basic table manners fell to the wayside.

Dinner etiquette disappeared.

Jeff, going against every rule his parents and grandparents ever taught him at a dinner table, dared to be sloppy and messy with his meal. He just licked, slithered, and gorged like a man in desperate need of both sustenance and sex. For once, two of life’s most powerful drives converged. It wasn’t physically possible to be more focused.

“So good!” he said, his voice muffled. “It tastes…so fucking good!”

“Mmm…my mashed potatoes or my pussy?” Tanya purred.

“Both!” he said without hesitation.

Jeff made sure to clear his proverbial plate, licking up every last bit of mashed potatoes that were in and around his wife’s pussy. He used his fingers at times, gathering up the traces while also stimulating her tender outer folds. For the most part, though, he used his tongue, licking and lapping his way around her womanly flesh. He could actually taste her feminine juices mixing with the potatoes. Between that and his wife’s special recipe, it was a hell of a treat.

By the time he licked it all up, Tanya was fully aroused. He even sensed her getting close to orgasm. The way her legs shifted and her inner muscles tensed made that abundantly clear. However, Jeff knew his wife wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. Tradition demanded they save the best parts for desert.

“I think you’ve had your fill, babe,” Tanya said, not hiding the extent of her arousal at that point.

“Says you,” Jeff said, looking up from her snatch.

“I’ve still got a little bit left,” she said, retrieving the bowl of mashed potatoes once more. “Mind if I finish it off?”

“Not at all, my darling!”

Sensing what she had in mind, Jeff gave his wife’s pussy one last lick to clear off the remnants of the potatoes. Then, he sat back down in the chair again and let his love work her magic.

She moved quickly, her arousal still motivating her every step of the way. The bowl of mashed potatoes still in her hand, she gathered what remained of it in her hand and smothered it over his genitalia, just as he’d done with her. He was still semi-hard, the act of dining on mashed potatoes and pussy doing plenty to get him going. However, achieving full arousal required his wife’s special touch.

“To think, I didn’t even enjoy cooking before we got together,” Tanya said, once again licking her lips in anticipation.

“Sometimes, you just need the right motivation,” Jeff said proudly.

“Lucky for me, I have a husband who knows how to motivate a woman in so many ways.”

Once again proving her fondness of tradition, Tanya got down on her knees and gorged on him as he’d done with her. She was just as thorough as he’d been, using her lips and tongue to lap up the potatoes around his penis. Along the way, she threw in her uncanny oral sex skills.

In addition to taking in large helpings of mashed potatoes, she took in the full length of his cock. As she’d done with his chest, she put her tongue to good use, licking and tasting his flesh every step of the way. It created a unique feeling of satisfaction, the act of feeding his wife while she orally pleasured him. She’d been good at oral teasing even before he introduced her to his holiday traditions. Giving her another outlet just added further spice to their marriage, as well as their diet.

“Oohhh Tanya!” Jeff moaned. “That’s it. Enjoy it. Lick it all up!”

He couldn’t tell if she’d heard him. She just kept sucking and slurping around his member, getting up every last bit of food. By the time she finished, his penis was fully erect. His arousal now matched her own. That meant they were ready for the final course.

“Mmm…I’m definitely saving that recipe,” Tanya said.

“Oh yeah,” Jeff said, “that’s a keeper.”

“Guess we’re set for potatoes,” she said. “Ready to test the stuffing?”

“Hell yes!” he replied without hesitation. “I’m so ready.”

That extra-confident tone of his sent the necessary signal. They were ready to complete the last – and, arguably, the best – part of their holiday tradition. It involved the special stuffing recipe he only made for the holidays, but with a kinky twist.

Still very hungry – and horny, for that matter – Tanya shot up from the floor and kissed him passionately. The taste of potatoes and dick was still on her lips. Jeff loved it, which further motivated him to finish the job.

“Turn around,” he said as soon as their lips parted.

Tanya responded with a simple grin before eagerly complying with his request. After doing so, he retrieved the last two bowls on the table, which were full of stuffing. Not caring about the wood, he poured it out on the table in front of where his wife stood. Then, grabbed her by the shoulder and bent her over so that her face was right in the pile.

“Bend over,” Jeff told her, “and eat!”

“Ooh! I love your stuffing,” she said, her mouth already half-full.

“And you’re about to love it even more!” he boasted.

As Tanya gorged on the stuffing, he poured the other bowl onto her back, just as he had her breasts and pussy. Then, with the aroma of the stuffing filling the dining room, he positioned himself behind her and aligned his member with her wet entrance. Instinctively, his love parted her thighs and held onto the sides of the table in anticipation. Their bodies now in synch, he thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Mmm yes!” Tanya cried out, moaning as the stuffing covered her face.

“Dinner…is served,” Jeff proclaimed.

Their flesh now intimately entwined, he began working his manhood within her throbbing folds, establishing the heated sexual rhythm they’d come to love. At the same time, he leaned over and buried his face in her upper back, licking up and gorging on the delicious stuffing that was so distinct to the Thanksgiving holiday. The resulting sensations were as sensual as they were festive.

Together, they rocked the table with their naked bodies while also indulging their appetites. They ate and humped, fulfilling two basic needs at once. It was the best kind of multitasking, combined with a holiday spirit. The same dining room that would soon be filled by friends and family was thick with the musk of sex and Thanksgiving food. It was a unique ambience, but one he and Tanya created with their passion.

“Mmm…yes! Oohhh yes!” Tanya moaned. “So good…so tasty…ooh it’s gonna make me come!”

“Oh yeah…delicious!” Jeff grunted. “I’m about…to come…too!”

Just as the delights of food and sex converged, the inherent ecstasy that came with both quickly followed. Much to Jeff’s chagrin, Tanya climaxed first. She once boasted she could achieve orgasm with little effort during sex, but preferred having her partners earn it. He didn’t mind the challenge and Tanya always made it worthwhile.

“Ohhh Jeff!” she exclaimed.

“Tanya…” he gasped.

It echoed perfectly in the walls of their dining room, mixing with the smell of food and sex. He steadied the pace of his movements, enjoying the feel of her inner muscles throbbing around his member. That extra tightness helped push him beyond the brink as well. With only a slight trace of stuffing left on her back, he lapped it up with his tongue just as the feeling it.

In an instant, a flood of satisfying sensations surged through his body, adding to that warm feeling in his stomach that often came with good food. His member tensed and his manly fluids mixed with her feminine juices. He let out a deep grunt, not at all caring that his mouth was full of stuffing. One feeling perfectly compounded another, an intense sexual release combining with the joy of a satisfying meal with his wife.

When the dual feeling finally passed, he and his love let out a content gasp that filled the room. There was still traces of stuffing on the table and their faces. They had also worked up a light sweat in the confines of the dining room, adding to the unique blend of scents. By every measure, their effort to uphold their pre-Thanksgiving tradition was a success. It boded well for the festivities tomorrow.

After catching their breath, their bodies parted and Jeff sat back down in the chair. Tanya, deep in a post-orgasmic glow, turned around and sat on his lap again. They soon found themselves in a loving embrace, not caring that parts of their body were still messy with food, drool, and sex. Every family holiday had their own unique holiday traditions. Theirs just happened to be kinkier than most and Jeff wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Happy Thanksgiving, my love,” Tanya said as she playfully wiped the stuffing off his face.

“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, my beautiful kinky wife,” Jeff said with a beaming grin.

“I think I’ve officially worked up an appetite for tomorrow!”

“Me too,” he said proudly, “let’s just make sure we scrub the table in the morning. Our parents don’t have to know just how much we enjoy our little traditions.”

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Why You Should (And Shouldn’t) Marry Your Best Friend

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Love is complicated. You don’t need to be an aspiring erotica/romance writer to understand that. Anyone who has any experience with love, good and bad alike, finds that out very quickly. As someone who writes about and contemplates it more than most men dare admit, I find many of those complications both fascinating and frustrating.

Recently, one particular complication has interested/confounded me. It has to do with who we ultimately decide we want to spend the rest of our lives with. I know marriage is rapidly changing and I’ve highlighted some of its past deficiencies, but I’m focusing primarily on the romance part. I know love hasn’t always been linked to marriage, but love is a feeling that goes beyond any institution.

That’s what makes it so special when we find someone who we love so much that we want to indelibly link our lives with theirs. Whether or not you call it a marriage is beside the point. Seeking a romantic connection that deep isn’t just the premise of a good romance story. It’s a powerful human drive that has guided us since the hunter/gatherer days.

Whether or not we marry that special someone, having that kind of love for someone and wanting to be with them is a romantic constant that transcends institutions. This brings me to a question that I’ve asked more than once over the years and gotten many conflicting answers that all sound legitimate.

Should you marry your best friend?

I’ve asked it to close friends and family members. I’ve asked that question on Reddit. I’ve even asked it on Twitter. No matter where or how I ask it, though, I always get a wide range of answers. Some say your best friend is the only person you should marry. Others say that’s the last person you should marry. Both give reasons that I can’t entirely disagree with.

As an admitted romantic, this really confounds me. Beyond complicating my efforts to write compelling love stories, it highlights the complexity and diversity surrounding love. Even though it’s a feeling most of us experience, people go about it in such wildly different ways. Remarkably, people can make those ways work and experience intensely meaningful romances.

To understand how, I want to share some of the responses I’ve gotten over the years. When I first started asking the question among close friends and relative, most said without hesitation that you should definitely marry your best friend. Your best friend is someone you know, care for, and stand by through thick and thin. Marrying them is just an extension of that depth.

I’ve seen relationships built on this. When one of my close relatives lost his wife after a nearly 50-year marriage, I could hear the strain in his voice when he said he’d just lost his best friend. To him, there was no line dividing the woman he loved and his best friend. The same person he hung out with on a Saturday night is the same person who bore his two children.

It seems definitive, but at the same time, I have another close relative who sees it very differently. To him, a spouse is someone very different from your best friend. A spouse is someone with which you share a unique intimacy that you can’t have with any other friend, no matter how close you are. Trying to mix friends and spouses is like trying to get a plumber to fix your computer.

Whether you agree with that sentiment or not, this same relative has been married to the same woman for over four decades. Their love is every bit as intimate as anyone else’s. I’ve seen them interact differently with each other than they do with their friends. This is how they go about their relationship and it works for them.

On the other side of the spectrum, I’ve seen people who’ve tried to answer this question prove themselves dead wrong. One of my cousins made it clear in seeking a partner that he didn’t want a best friend. He wanted a wife. He wanted someone he could share his life with and later build a family. He eventually did find someone and they had that family.

However, their relationship was never that stable. They ended up getting divorced after less than 10 years and it was one of those divorces that surprised nobody. My cousin and his wife both shared the same goal. They even shared the same approach to finding love. Despite that, they couldn’t make it work.

Something similar happened to a girl I knew in college. She was a romantic like me and she once told me that she would only marry her best friend. I believed her and I may have even encouraged her. Right around my senior year, she claimed she found her best friend and she couldn’t wait to marry him. Like my cousin, though, it didn’t work out. They got divorced.

Their reasons for breaking up aren’t mine to reveal. I’ll only say that if you spent a just few days with them, even at their best, you wouldn’t have been surprised about their relationship failing. They were one of those couples that just never took anything seriously enough. They acted as though just being best friends was enough. Relationships, no matter how good they are, still require work.

I could list dozens more examples that prove or disprove both sides. There are plenty of cases where best friends go onto become strong relationships. There are others in which attempting to turn a best friend into a spouse fails miserably. It’s possible that either approach could lead to a profound love story or an agonizing heartbreak.

To add even more complications to the mix, friendship and romance can be one of those things that just never intersects for some people. While some may disagree with me, I believe it is possible for people of different genders and complementary sexual orientations to be just friends. I’ve had female friends that I could never dream of marrying and I guarantee they would say the same thing about me.

At the end of the day, this is one of those rare questions where there are just as many right answers as there are wrong answers. The people who claim their answer is correct can cite plenty of examples beyond their own experiences that are perfectly valid. They could just as easily argue that the other side is wrong and be objectively right on some levels.

In discussing and contemplating this question for many years, I can’t claim I have more insight than anyone else. I feel like I’ve had experience on many friends, both with friends and with romantic partners. In light of that and all the other responses I’ve gotten from this question, I think the only true answer is best summed up with two simple words.

It depends.

I know that sounds like the kind of answer that only a politician would give, but it’s probably the most comprehensive. Some people just approach love in a way that precludes their best friend entirely. Others go about it in a way that practically requires it. Both can work if you and your lover are on the same page. Both can make for great romance stories with plenty of sex appeal.

It can still be frustrating. It can be downright counter-intuitive at times. It’s for that very reason, though, that love and romance can be so intriguing. If something can confound and compel you at the same time, then you know you’re dealing with something uniquely powerful.

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Daily Sexy Musing: A Tribute To Quick Flings

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As a romance fan, I’ll always have a strong appreciation for the kind of epic love stories that make for great novels, heart-wrenching movies, and extra-hot sex scenes. I make no apologies for that and I’ll continue incorporating this type of romance into my novels and sexy short stories.

However, even the romantic in me has a soft spot for quick flings. By that, I don’t mean the kinds of one-night stands that are only a few steps above masturbation. For me, a fling is something that has some emotional resonance on top of the sexy stuff. I don’t deny that flings usually emphasize sex more than romance, but I think there’s a place for them in the greater romantic landscape.

I haven’t had too many flings in my life, but I know people who have had more than a few. They don’t treat them as serious relationships, but they don’t treat them as an afterthought in their personal lives. Some even become a stepping stone to finding more meaningful romance. Love them or hate them, quick flings have a significant influence on our collective love lives.

As such, I believe that influence is worth celebrating. The following Daily Sexy Musing will channel both the love and the lust associated with these flings to help flesh out their appeal. Whether or not you’ve ever had one in your life, I hope this helps you appreciate them. Enjoy!

Time is never on our side. In the grand scheme of life, every moment becomes a tiny snapshot as we carry forward. Like following a river, the ripples fade fast and become distant memories. For you and me, I want more. For us, I believe we’re capable of making waves.

A random encounter brought us together.

A fleeting passion brought us intimacy.

A fondness of flesh made it something greater.

What started as a sensual release is no longer shallow. I remember your face. I recall the warm touch of your smooth skin. The way your flesh felt in my hand and the way our bodies became entwined is not easy to forget. I don’t want to forget. However brief a time we have, I week to etch every moment together into my soul.

Fond memories of great bliss and wrinkled sheets is simply not enough. We can be more than two bodies seeking intimate contact. However, we don’t have to be more than necessary. There is potential in our passion. Why not realize it?

Let’s seek more than a warm body for our beds.

Let’s seek more than basic company on lonely nights.

Let’s seek more than friendly exchanges of flesh and feeling.

Where there is lust, there is the foundation for love. Where love is not possible, we still have moments to forge and feelings to embrace. There are countless souls on this world. We only ever have time to embrace a few. I want to be among those with which you shared yourself without regret. I can be that person, but only if you give us a chance.

Like a roll of the dice or a flash of lightning, the experience is a product of chaos and chance. In a world where losses always outnumber gains, there odds are against us, but the rewards are immense. History may dissuade us, but desire continues to drive us. I’m willing to navigate that chaos. Are you?

I am here.

You are here.

We are together.

Let’s make the most of it.

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Daily Sexy Musings: Lazy Saturday Loving

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Who doesn’t love a lazy Saturday? You know the ones I’m talking about. They’re those rare days where you go out of your way to clear your schedule, finish every errand, and make damn sure you have nothing major to worry about.

Ever since grade school, I’ve had a special appreciation for those days. It might have been because I was such an overly-stressed grade-grubber with self-esteem issues, but that’s beside the point. I still loved lazy Saturdays back then. I love them now, but as an adult, they’ve gained a sexier dimension.

I don’t deny that healthy, sexy romances take work. In fact, it takes a lot of work, physically and emotionally. That’s exactly why it’s important to set some time aside to enjoy the fruits of all that labor. A lazy Saturday is a perfect venue for that. For that reason, and plenty others, I dedicate this Daily Sexy Musing to the sexiest part of lazy Saturdays. Enjoy!

We turn the alarm off.

We silence our phones.

We lock the doors.

Free of distractions and unburdened of chores, this day is ours. We work and toiled all week to carve this special time for ourselves, a single day in which there are no distractions or deadlines to consume our lives. There’s just us, together on our own terms.

We don’t put on fancy clothes. Anything more formal than a pair of underwear is optional, at most. You and I don’t even need clothes for this day. We’re free to cut loose and run wild. There’s no one to impress, no image to maintain. It’s just us and our love, a feeling we can celebrate on our terms.

As we lay in bed, we marvel at the hour. The sun has been up for hours. For once, we’re not out and about, completing one task and lamenting over the next. There’s no commute to endure or gathering to attend. It’s so jarring, but in the best possible way.

I can just be me.

You can just be you.

We can just be us.

On a whim, we embrace. There’s no big setup, fancy clothes, or elaborate spectacle. We just hold each other, bed hair and all. We kiss, conveying as much energy as necessary and not a fraction more. We ditch what little clothes we have on. We make love under the sheets, simple and basic.

In that moment, everything is raw and unrefined. There are no obstacles to overcome or challenges to navigate. We just do what comes naturally and what’s more natural than our love? Whether felt or expressed, it’s so real on this day. That’s when it truly dawns on us.

We can make love multiple times.

We can sleep in for hours on end.

We can loft lazily on the couch, watching whatever we please.

The options are limitless, but there’s no pressure to choose. There’s no schedule to keep. We just do what we wish, guided only by whim and impulse. It’s not just a passing moment in between daily stresses. It’s an entire day for us and only us.

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Daily Sexy Musing: Verbal Foreplay

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I don’t consider myself a flirting expert, nor do I think very highly of the pick-up artist community. The idea of just bullshitting someone into sleeping with you doesn’t really sit well with me. Other than being unromantic, it comes off as the shallowest kind of intimacy. Sure, there’s a place for that sort of thing, but it doesn’t deserve to be glorified.

I’m still a big fan of using words as a catalyst for intimacy. I’m not just talking about the lurid dirty talk that often finds its way into my novels and sexy short stories. I genuinely believe that there’s an art to saying just the right thing in just the right way to turn a tender moment into something extra sexy. It’s not easy knowing how or when to say it, but when it works, it’s downright magical.

There have been only a handful of incidence where I can say with a straight face that I aroused a woman with my words. Those were amazing moments, though. I genuinely hope the women felt the same way. They helped affirm the power of sexy words and saying in just the right way.

The following Daily Sexy Musing is a tribute to how powerful that kind of sexy rhetoric can be. Regardless of gender or circumstances, it can turn a tiny spark into a passionate flame. You don’t need the wit of Shakespeare. You just need a willingness to turn sexy thoughts into sexier words. Enjoy!

I wait for a brief silence. In the chaos that is our lives, they don’t come by often. That makes every opportunity more precious and I intend to embrace every one of them. I need only you, me, and a quiet place where you can hear my voice above a whisper.

We’ve found just the right moment.

We’re in just the right place.

We have a chance to share illicit sentiment and I’m taking it.

I lean in and talk right into your ear. My tone is barely above a whisper, soft and direct so that there is no ambiguity. I leave nothing to chance. I make abundantly clear all the lurid things I want to do with you. Are you bold enough to handle that sentiment?

I say what needs to be said, unfiltered and uncensored. I await your reaction. I see you tense and I hear you gasp. I also notice your legs shifting, as though I struck just the right chord in your intimate anatomy. You try to hide it, but you don’t try very hard. You let me see your reaction. It says so much without a single word.

You turn and look at me. At first, you’re aghast. Moments later, you’re intrigued. Your expression changes. Gone is the look of innocence and restraint. In your eyes, I see the shackles come off. Your heart and your loins are freed. My words didn’t just pick the lock. It shattered every link on the chain.

You dive eagerly into my grasp.

You whisper devious musings into my ear.

You take my luscious verbiage and turn it against me.

Suddenly, the same chords are struck. Body, mind, and heart go in different directions, but make their way to the same destination. Our words provoke actions. Our actions inform passions. Those passions bring out the extremes of love, lust, and everything in between.

I offer more amorous rhetoric. You respond in kind. Like gusts of wind fueling a firestorm, it drives us to the highest peaks of desire. We don’t just remove our clothes. We rip them off. We don’t just caress one another. Together, we plunge into a sea of depthless desire.

All it took was a few words.

All it took was a distinct tone.

From our voice, the greatest acts of love and desire manifest before us.

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