Tag Archives: love

Why We Should Embrace Married Superheroes

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What is more emotionally satisfying than seeing someone you care about find happiness? Whether it’s a friend, a sibling, or even a celebrity you admire, don’t you feel a twinge of joy when you see them achieve something special? Unless you’re a cynic or a sociopath, you’ve probably had those feelings at least once in your life.

With those warm and fuzzy feelings inside, why shouldn’t that also extend to the iconic superheroes we know and love? When our favorite heroes finally get around to marrying the love of their life, it’s natural to want to cheer them on the same way we would cheer for our best friend as he and his bride do karaoke at the reception.

However, those tasked with building the canon seem to have an aversion to married superheroes. Just this past summer, that aversion was on full display. Two major superhero weddings were set up, one involving Kitty Pryde and Colossus in X-men Gold #30 and the other involving Batman and Catwoman in Batman #50.

Sadly, both events ended without tearful vows and a drunken toast, although one salvaged a matrimonial quickie at the last second. I’ve already broken down how one wedding just prolonged an already drawn out romance while the other denigrated the entire concept of romance, as a whole. Rather than bemoan those romantic misfirings, I’d like to step back and look at the bigger picture of married superheroes.

This is actually a controversial issue among fans of superhero comics and those who create them. I’ve been browsing comic book message boards for years. I can attest to just how much fans care when their favorite characters get married. They continue caring long after the wedding reception.

On the other side of the controversy, though, there are the creators that work for Marvel, DC, and their corporate overlords. They have a slightly different view of married superheroes and one that’s not nearly as sentimental. To say their views are complex is like saying a plumber has mixed opinions on food poisoning.

While many of those writing, editing, and producing superhero media are fans themselves, they often have to leave their fandom at the door. Companies like Marvel and DC Comics don’t pay them to write fan fiction. They pay them to tell stories that will sell, increase the value of their brand, and improve market share.

A writer or editor’s ability to do this is prone to many challenges. Fans, especially comic book fans, are notoriously fickle with their passions. If they see something they don’t like happening to a character they love, they’re pretty vocal about it. Just ask fans of Captain America, the Fantastic Four, or Cyclops of the X-men.

In that respect, I have some sympathy for the people responsible for handling beloved characters. They’re basically playing with someone else’s toys and getting paid for it. However, if they break those toys or damage them in any way, there can be hell to pay. Just look at the current situation with Star Wars.

That sympathy, though, only goes so far and I can’t extended to how some at Marvel and DC have approached marriage. DC Comics editor, Dan Dido, once went on record as saying that superheroes should not get married. Long-time Marvel editor and COO, Joe Quesda, even had to justify breaking up Spider-Man’s marriage to Mary Jane Watson by claiming that it “stabilized” Spider-Man too much.

Now in general, I try to be understanding and respectful when people hold positions that I disagree with. I’ve even tried to do that with hot-button issues like abortion, feminism, and organized religion. In this case though, I just have to call bullshit.

Claiming marriage does too much to stabilize a superhero is like saying ketchup makes food too red. It gives the impression that stability is somehow a liability with superheroes, as though they can only be interesting when their world is falling apart and they’re one stubbed toe away from a nervous breakdown.

It’s true that we superhero fans love seeing our favorite heroes fight back invading aliens, punch Nazis, and even take on renegade alien gods. However, it’s also true that we don’t expect or want that to be the only story that superheroes tell. We’re also interested in the lives they live outside their flashy costumes. It doesn’t just humanize them. It gives us more reasons to root for them.

Both Mr. Quesada and Mr. Dido try to make the case that part of being a hero involves sacrificing parts of their personal life in order to serve the greater good. There’s little doubt that being a hero comes at a price, as many of Batman’s former lovers can attest, but that doesn’t have to involve outright isolation.

It also doesn’t mean being a superhero makes a functioning marriage impossible, either. Yes, it’s a lot harder to be a loving spouse and a superhero, but I wouldn’t say it’s as daunting as battling planet-eating space gods or surviving a team-up with Deadpool. In fact, it can enhance their heroics in ways that go beyond romance.

I’m not the only one to make that point either. In wake of the recent wedding debacles by Marvel and DC, Comic Books Resources asked why publishers are so afraid of married superheroes. They cited the same excuses I did about heroes needing to sacrifice, but they also pointed out how these kinds of real-life, mundane events help people connect with these characters.

What the article didn’t get into is why this matters. Superman is a hero with god-like power who can move planets and create diamonds with his bare hands. He’s also married to Lois Lane and still has to put in the effort to make that marrage work, even when it becomes prone to complications.

Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four is among the smartest beings in the entire Marvel Universe. He creates thought projectors, flying cars, and personal robots without breaking a sweat. He too has to work hard to keep his marriage and family functioning, especially when a handsome Atlantean king keeps trying to sleep with his wife.

Then, there’s Spider-Man. I know I’ve brought him up a number of times and not always in a positive light, but what happened to him and his marriage is still one of the most controversial things that have ever happened in comics. In many ways, he embodies the ultimate flaw in the excuses to undercut married superheroes.

In the infamous story, One More Day, Spider-Man’s marriage to Mary Jane Watson wasn’t just undone. He actually made a deal with Mephisto, Marvel’s stand-in for the devil, to sacrifice his marriage in exchange for saving his Aunt May’s life. Considering his Aunt had told him just a few issues ago that she didn’t want to be saved, Spider-Man still went through with it.

To say fans were upset by that decision would be like saying the Hulk has a slight anger management problem. This act didn’t just undercut an iconic superhero romance. It essentially reverted Spider-Man back to the state of an immature loser who had barely grown up since high school.

Again, Marvel made plenty of excuses. Long-time Spider-Man writer, Dan Slott, claimed that Spider-Man has to remain within a particular status quo. He has to keep being this lovable loser who is always struggling to hold down a job, keep a girlfriend, and still be a hero. In order to keep that unique appeal he has, and all the merchendising money it makes, he can’t be married.

I understand that logic, but I still call bullshit. You know what happens to characters who never change, grow up, or evolve over time? It’s the same thing that happens to real people. They become boring and unlikable. In Spider-Man’s case, he becomes something worse. He becomes the guy who sold his marriage to the devil to save someone who didn’t even want to be saved. That’s not heroic. That’s just plain selfish.

That’s the price a superhero pays for remaining in a prepetually regressed state. I contend that price is far higher than any associated with the inherent difficulty of writing married characters. With Spider-Man, One More Day established that no matter what he did in his personal or heroic life, he would never change. He’d always end up sleeping on his Aunt May’s couch.

It doesn’t matter if he pursues a new romance. It doesn’t matter if he becomes a billionaire and runs his own company. A reader can just assume he’ll screw it all up somehow and end up right back where he started. It’s just hard to root for any character that keeps regressing like that.

It’s like rooting for a sports team that never wins. Even terrible teams can turn it around at some point. Yes, that includes the Cleveland Browns. If that team never wins, though, why even root in the first place?

This is why marriage is so vital to the growth and evolution of superheroes. When a hero gets married, it’s not just an excuse to have a big event full of superhero-themed cakes. It’s a culmination of a much larger story about love, growth, and strength. It takes a lot to make a marriage work and not all of it can be done with superpowers.

Therein lies the ultimate appeal, though. When a superhero gets married, they go from simply pursuing a relationship to actually making it work. They have to learn how to build a life with another person and become part of a larger family, something that cannot and should not be exclusive to the Fantastic Four.

It fundementally changes how superheroes approach their lives, in and out of costume. It adds new layers of complexity and intrigue. Yes, it’s considerably harder than telling stories about Superman rescuing Lois Lane from Lex Luthor’s evil clutches. That’s exactly what makes it more compelling.

I don’t doubt that Marvel and DC will continue making excuses about married superheroes. Whether or not their approach to the issue evolves remains to be seen. However, since they’re in the business of keeping their characters relevant, they will have an incentive to adapt these characters for changing times and maturing audiences.

Being the romantic I am, I believe love will eventually win out in the end because love is part of why we root for superheroes in the first place. Love isn’t just about being unselfish. It’s also about achieving something special after so much sacrifice. Fans of superheroes want to see them achieve the things they struggle for. It affirms that all those heroics have meaning and purpose.

Marriage doesn’t have to be the ultimate achievement for a superhero. It can be part of it, though. It doesn’t have to be an end. It can be a beginning, as well. Until Marvel and DC lets its heroes get to that point, though, those stories won’t get told and hearts will keep getting broken for all the wrong reasons.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Love Or Obsession, Marriage and Relationships, romance, superhero movies, X-men

Reflecting On The Balanced (But Bland) Romance In “Ant Man And The Wasp”

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Whenever I go into a Marvel movie these days, I often wonder whether this will be the movie that finally derails the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s unprecedented winning streak. Whenever I to go to see any other kind of superhero movie, I just wonder whether or not it’ll fail miserably. For some, the extent of that failure can be pretty egregious.

It says something about the brand that Kevin Feige and Disney have created when the quality of a movie is assumed by the audience. Ever since the first “Iron Man,” the MCU has found ways to raise the bar, match it, raise it again, and make billions in the process. The brand is so strong that it can turn obscure comics involving talking raccoons into a global phenomenon.

It’s for that reason I wasn’t at all surprised when Feige and our Disney overlords turned “Ant Man” into another successful franchise. Granted, he’s not nearly on the same level as Iron Man or Captain America, but he doesn’t have to be. The fact his first movie made over $500 million is proof that even obscure characters can play a part in the MCU’s winning streak.

For the most part, I thought “Ant Man” was a decent movie. It was fun, but not on the same level as “Guardians of the Galaxy” or “Thor: Ragnarok.” However, what really got me excited for the inevitable sequel was the promise of a more meaningful romantic sub-plot between Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne.

When I heard that the title of the sequel was “Ant Man and the Wasp,” I grew even more hopeful. The first movie did a lot to establish the connection between Scott and Hope. Unlike the other romantic connections that have emerged in the MCU, this one had the potential to become something more than just a standard plot device.

It’s an understated, but emerging issue in the MCU. When it comes to romance, Marvel movies have a frustrating tendency to only go so far. Sure, it has romantic moments between Captain America and Peggy Carter, Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, and Black Panther and Nakia. However, those moments rarely go beyond moving the plot forward.

With Ant Man and Wasp, there’s an opportunity to inject a more refined level of romance into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Beyond just giving characters added motivation, this is a relationship that can function more like a partnership rather than a plot catalyst. A good romance, after all, is an exercise in developing quality partnerships.

This is what I was hoping to see with “Ant Man and the Wasp” in addition to Paul Rudd finding new ways to be hilarious. Being a self-professed lover of romance, I wanted to see this romantic evolution happen on-screen and within the context of a larger story. Looking back on it, I might have been hoping for too much.

That’s not to say my hopes were dashed for this movie. I’ll gladly go on record as saying that “Ant Man and the Wasp” is a solid movie that improves on its predecessor. At the same time, though, I felt this movie was a missed opportunity to give the MCU an element that it has been sorely lacking for a while now.

Ever since Thor’s relationship with Jane Foster was unceremoniously cast aside after “Thor: The Dark World,” Marvel movies have been doing the bare minimum when it comes to romance. I would argue that has been part of a larger trend within superhero movie not involving Deadpool.

From the beginning, “Ant Man and the Wasp” sets itself apart by having Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne operate as an equal partnership. They both have plenty of moments where they show off their skill. Hope gets to show off early by really shining as Wasp. Scott contributes later on in ways that are both cunning and hilarious.

In my opinion, the most important achievement of this movie is establishing how complementary Hope and Scott are as a duo. On their own, they show they’re plenty capable. However, they can only achieve what they want when they work together. That, in essence, is the foundation of any meaningful romance.

Unfortunately, “Ant Man and the Wasp” doesn’t do much to build on that foundation. There are a few romantic moments, but they’re very small and usually involve puppy love glances. There aren’t any instances where Hope and Scott get that intimate. They work together and they work well, but it’s exceedingly basic.

There’s never an impression that their relationship deserves to be elevated above a relationship like Thor and Jane. Even though Hope and Scott is a lot more balanced in terms of how they function together, it’s not necessarily the kind of love story that will strike an emotional chord.

They work well together and they’re attracted to one another. Their romance is basically not that different than a typical office romance. In many respects, their relationship is overshadowed by the one between Hank Pym and his missing wife, Janet. That ends up being a more compelling love story, which is saying a lot given the complications of their relationship in the comics.

Even that romantic element is relatively basic, though. Much of the conflict revolves around Ant Man and Wasp’s efforts to save Janet from the quantum realm, where she’s been trapped for years. It creates plenty of family-driven drama, which certainly has its appeal. In terms of overall drama, though, it only goes so far.

Outside those romantic elements, “Ant Man and the Wasp” does everything it needs to in order to maintain the brand of the MCU. It’s coherent, concise, and entertaining. The movie relies heavily on the comedic elements, which fits perfectly for a character who rides around on ants.

Ant Man is not Black Panther, Captain America, or Thor. Wasp is not Black Widow, Gamora, or Peggy Carter. They don’t try to be more than who they are. They stick to the core of their character. In an era where superheroes try too hard to be like Batman, this counts as an accomplishment.

In this same era, there’s a similar effort to develop more balanced female characters who aren’t Wonder Woman. Wasp definitely counts as progress in that effort. She can hold her own, kick ass, and complement those around her, whether that’s Scott Lang or Hank Pym. She’s still no Wonder Woman, but Marvel may be saving that effort for “Captain Marvel.”

In terms of the villain in this movie, “Ant Man and the Wasp” manages to get by with Ghost. While there is some intrigue with her character, she does little to make herself memorable. Compared to Erik Killmonger, who stole the show in “Black Panther,” Ghost was more an obstacle than a villain. She still got the job done and did so with personality.

Overall, if I had to score “Ant Man and the Wasp,” I would give it a 7 out of 10. It’s an all-around solid movie that’s fun, entertaining, and satisfying. It’s definitely a breath of fresh air after the grim circumstances surrounding “Avengers: Infinity War,” at least until the post-credits scene. However, the romance lover in me still feels that it left much of its potential untapped.

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Filed under Movie Reviews, movies, romance, superhero movies

How Atheism May Improve Your Sex Life

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When it comes to improving your sex life, there’s no one way to go about it that works for everyone. Human sexuality is complex, diverse, and exceedingly kinky. What works for one person won’t work for another and may even be detrimental in some cases.

Conversely, there are also variety of ways to undermine or ruin your sex life. That same sexual diversity that helps the human race find novel ways to get intimate with one another can also backfire horribly. Some are minor, in terms of effect, but other forces can have a much greater impact.

That brings me to religion, a topic that tends to inspire the best and worst in people. Like sex, it’s a complex phenomenon that impacts everybody differently. It can inspire great charity and compassion in some. It can just as easily incur greed, exploitation, and outright atrocity.

For those reasons, and plenty more that are too numerous to list, any effort that involves mixing sex with religion is akin to mixing napalm with TNT. I’ve made an effort to discuss both topics in a fair, balanced manner in the past. I feel as though I can only go so far before I totally inflame certain audiences.

I’m still going to try to push the conversation a bit farther. That means taking a few risks and since religion is still such a prominent force in the world, it’s effect on our collective sex lives is unavoidable.

For this particular discussion, want to focus on what happens when religion is removed from the equation. If religion is really that powerful an influence on our lives, and both history and current politics indicate that influence is not entirely trivial, then it stands to reason that the impact of its absence can reveal something about the extent of that influence.

That’s not to say that this is going to be a glowing endorsement of atheism. I prefer to let the data, the logic, and the implications speak for themselves. Since religion is on decline in many parts of the western world, I think exploring the potential impact is critical and even a little urgent.

Information on the sex lives of atheists compared to those who consider themselves religious is somewhat difficult to come by. The act of assessing and measuring someone’s sex lives, as well as the extent of their religiosity, is extremely difficult without the aid of lie detectors or mind-readers. The information we do have, though, does offer some intriguing insights.

Back in 2011, a survey entitled “Sex and Secularism” surveyed approximately 14,500 people revealed that those who identified as religious had less satisfying sex lives than their non-religious counterparts. On top of that, those same religious participants reported a high level of guilt that came along with their sex lives. Given how some religions build their theology around guilt, that shouldn’t be too surprising.

Conversely, those identifying as non-religious didn’t just report better sex lives. They had better sexual education and were more open to discussing sex in general. Everything from personal fantasies to simple tastes was fair game and less affected by guilt. That openness, along with considerably less stigma, was conducive to a more fulfilling sex life.

That effect was more pronounced by those who had once been religious, but had since become atheist. Between the absence of religiously-motivated guilt and the sexual taboos that are often theologically driven, the cumulative effect is pretty striking. This notable quote from the researchers summed it up nicely.

“People who had lost their belief and became atheists reported a significant improvement in sexual satisfaction,” the paper went on to say. Apparently the guilty feelings that religion creates around sex dissipate after a while.

Now, I can already hear the outrage sincerely devout religious crowd on the conclusions of this study. More than a few people who consider themselves religious will claim that their sex lives are superior and they may even have a case to make. Many religions offer a simple, one-size-fits-all approach to sex that is uncomplicated, straightforward, and safer. The fact that it’s also ordained by a divine power is also a factor.

I don’t deny that there are plenty of religious couples out there who have satisfying sex lives. There are probably plenty of atheists out there who have terrible sex lives, as well. However, in order to draw larger conclusions about the impact of religion on sex, we can’t just go by a few anecdotal experiences. We have to step back and see the forest from the trees.

From a psychological and physiological perspective, it makes sense that guilt, religiously-motivated or not, would undermine anyone’s sex life. Guilt has measurable effects on people. It makes it harder to focus. It keeps us from enjoying things. It’s a powerful distraction that makes us feel stress and anxiety. All of these forces can do plenty to undermine your sex life.

In my musings on taboos, I often cite religion as a driving force behind them. Organized religion has made no secret of its intent to regulate, control, or outright exploit human sexuality. There’s plenty of theology, especially among the Abrahamic religions, that imparts divinely-mandated guilt on sex.

In these religious cultures, sex isn’t just some basic biological act that people do for intimacy, procreation, and recreation. It’s subject to all sorts of holy and unholy connotations. The deities involved in these religions aren’t just interested in the kind of sex you’re having. They’ll actually punish you if you do it the wrong way.

That does more than just impart extra guilt for doing anything that strays from what priests, mullahs, monks, and rabbis deem appropriate. It also instills a very rigid family structure, one centered around a specific manifestation of sex that has very little room for fun, kink, and exploration.

That manifestation involves strict gender roles where men do the hard labor and women do the child rearing. The only sex that is sanctioned is the one that involves producing babies who subsequently grow up to be adherents/soldiers/patrons of a particular religion. The fact that type of sexual expression indirectly benefits religious institutions is probably just a coincidence.

The act of enjoying sex for non-procreative purposes would constitute a distraction. A distraction is dangerous in any religion because if people become too distracted, then they pay less attention to the religious institutions and the duties they espouse. As such, it’s in the interest of any successful religion to maintain a strict control over someone’s sex life.

That kind of control is naturally prone to stress. Given how the biological wiring of human sexuality is not conducive to that kind of narrow expression, there’s bound to be temptation. The best way to combat temptation is through stigma and taboo. By hijacking powerful feelings like guilt, it’s possible heavily influence peoples’ sex lives, even if it’s impossible to control them.

It’s akin to putting lead weights on somebody’s limbs and convincing them that the weight is normal. Even if they come to accept that, the weight still skews perceptions and that can only do so much in terms of circumventing basic biology. It also means that when those weights come off, the effect is pretty striking.

Suddenly, the stigma that once kept someone from seeking the sex they desired are gone. The burdens associated with thoughts and feelings that religious institutions deem unholy are lifted. Like any form of stress relief, it can be pretty liberating.

That doesn’t necessarily mean the 2011 survey is conclusive. It has been criticized for being unscientific in some aspects. Some of those criticisms are valid and the researchers concede that, but to the extent the data is consistent with what we understand about how religion can affect our sexuality, it passes some critical filters.

Our sex lives are complicated. Religion, in its many forms, is complicated as well. Regardless of how you feel about one or the other, mixing them is almost certain to compound both. Atheism, like not playing a sport or not having a hobby, simply removes one of those complications.

It’s not a universal fix. It doesn’t subvert other potential issues that may undermine someone’s sex life. There’s plenty more research to be done and religion is still evolving with each passing year, but when it comes to removing divinely-imposed, theologically-driven guilt, atheism stimulates the necessary aspects that make for a satisfying sex life.

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Filed under gender issues, human nature, Marriage and Relationships, philosophy, psychology, religion, romance, sex in society, sexuality

The Emerging Problem Of Superman And Lois Lane

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I think I’ve made it fairly clear that I’m a big fan of superhero romances. I’m a big fan of romance in general, but romance between superheroes has a special place in my heart. I was a comic book fan before I was a romance fan. As the years have gone by, it has been among my favorite combinations. I put it up there with pizza and a cold beer.

It certainly helps that superhero comics have inspired some of the most iconic romances of the past century. Say what you will about Rose and Jack in “Titanic.” I still find the love story between Batman and Catwoman is much more complex and compelling in terms of depth, not to mention many times sexier.

Superhero comics have informed a lot with respect to my fondness for romance. I also think they offer unique insights into the complexity of romance. Love is complicated enough. Adding superpowers and super-villains into the mix only compounds the drama. Sometimes it can end in tragedy. Sometimes it can make for some truly epic romance that strikes all the right emotional chords.

In some instances, though, mixing romance and superheroes can cause problems. Like relationships in the real world, there are many ways to screw it up. Comics have done plenty to mishandle romance. Just ask any Spider-Man fan about a story called One More Day and watch them recoil with disgust. I’ve even noted a few examples.

However, there are some instances where romance in superhero comics cause unique problems that are subtle in substance, but vast in implications. It doesn’t always involve relationships that are inherently toxic to multiple characters. Sometimes, those problems can emerge in even the most iconic relationship.

In the pantheon of superhero romances, the top spot is usually reserved for Superman and Lois Lane. In terms of romance in superhero comics, they are the gold-encrusted diamond standard by which all others are measured. Their love is isn’t just iconic. It’s a foundational component for both characters.

Superman loves Lois Lane. Lois Lane loves Superman. That romance is established in the pages of Action Comics #1. It’s a critical part of how both characters evolve over the years. You can’t tell Superman’s story without Lois Lane and you can’t tell Lois Lane’s story without Superman.

In the same way Superman always does the right thing and Deadpool always makes the dirtiest joke, this dynamic is fundamental. It establishes the kind of romance that is pure, unconditional, and uncorrupt. There’s no need for a previous love interest to die or a love triangle to provoke drama. Superman and Lois Lane just love each other and that’s all there is to it.

However, even with a romance this iconic, there is a problem and it’s actually a very recent problem. It affects both Superman and Lois Lane, but I believe it affects Lois to a much greater extent. It stems from an issue that I’ve been noticing more and more lately with certain romances. When it shows up in the most iconic romance in the history of comics, though, I take notice.

The nature of the problem has less to do with love and more to do with how a relationship defines certain characters. In both fiction and real life, it’s common and even romantic for two people to become so close that their lives become heavily entwined. There comes a point, though, where it stops being romantic and starts being destructive.

For most of their history, Superman and Lois Lane’s romance was built around simple, but effective dynamics. Lois Lane loved Superman, but not Clark Kent, who she didn’t know was Superman. Superman kept his identity from her to protect her many years, which created plenty of tension and made for some great moments.

Eventually, Superman reveals his identity to Lois and they eventually get married. I remember that moment. It was an amazing milestone for both romance and comics lore. The problem only came when that dynamic was complicated by a new theme that has since permeated the narrative.

It didn’t start at any particular date, but I think “Superman Returns” marked the unofficial turning point. That movie, on top of turning Superman into a deadbeat dad, made a small, but critical tweak to the Superman/Lois romance. In essence, it turned their love from a strength to a liability that is detrimental to the ideals of Superman and romance, as a whole.

At the beginning of that movie, Superman’s actions are the same as they’ve always been. He does the right thing because it’s the right thing. That’s who he is and why he’s so iconic. Towards the end, though, what he does becomes less about doing the right thing and more about resolving his relationship with Lois Lane.

Suddenly, doing the right thing and saving Lois aren’t just supplementary plots. They’re indistinguishable. One is the other and that’s a problem for reasons that go beyond romance and heroism. It wouldn’t have been that big an issue if it had only played out in one sub-par Superman movie, but in recent years, the problem has escalated.

It manifested in its most overt form in “Injustice: Gods Among Us,” a video game with a comic book series tie-in that essentially provides a worst-case-scenario for Superman. In this story, Superman is tricked into killing both Lois and his unborn child by the Joker. It’s not just an atrocity and a tragedy. It fundementally breaks Superman.

I’m not just referring to his spirit either. The death of Lois Lane also marked the death of Superman, as an ideal. In both the game and the tie-in comics, he’s no longer a hero. He’s a tyrant who becomes everything he once fought against. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a villain, but he’s definitely not the beacon of goodness that so defines his character.

While it makes for a powerful story, the particulars of that transformation are profound and not in a good way. It implies that Superman’s heroism is directly tied to Lois Lane and not supplemented by it. If she dies, then Superman ceases to be that iconic hero who stands for truth and justice.

That sends the message that Superman’s love for Lois Lane isn’t a strength. It’s a crutch. She’s not just his connection to humanity. She’s his lifeline. Beyond putting a burden on a character whose appeal is her ambitious pursuit of truth, it reduces Lois Lane to a singular role and one that’s impossible to maintain.

Unlike Superman, Lois is human. She’s going to age. She’s going to eventually die. Under this dynamic, Superman will eventually lose sight of his ideals. He’ll eventually stop being the hero that fights for truth, justice, and the American Way. Without Lois, he’s destined to give up and for a character who once moved the sun, that’s pretty weak.

This issue came up again in the plot for “Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice.” While I enjoyed the movie and don’t think it deserved half the criticism it got, there was one major issue that I felt undercut the story. Once again, it came back to Superman’s relationship with Lois.

Throughout the movie, Superman constantly questions his role and responsibilites as a hero, especially after seeing Batman’s approach to pursuing justice. That’s perfectly appropriate with respect to humanizing his character, but at the end of the day, he bases much of his decision to save the day around saving Lois.

That’s not to say that there isn’t merit to saving a lover, but this is Superman we’re talking about here. This is a hero whose entire appeal is built around him having god-like power, but still doing the right thing. When the right thing is only ever in the context of saving his girlfriend, then that undercuts both the ideals and the romance itself.

It’s largely for that reason, among others, that I find the romance between Superman and Wonder Woman more compelling. Back in 2012, there was a brief period in DC Comics where the timeline was tweaked, which happens fairly often, and Superman’s marriage to Lois Lane was nullified. That gave these two iconic heroes a chance to be together.

I could probably write several more articles about why I think the Superman/Wonder Woman romance is special in its own right. In many respects, I think it’s healthier than the Superman/Lois Lane relationship. It may never be as iconic, but it fundementally avoids this problem.

Wonder Woman can take care of herself. She can save herself and be a hero on her own terms. Lois Lane, however, is becoming more and more defined by how she defines Superman. For the most iconic superhero couple of all time, that’s pretty shallow.

The recent comics have done little to address this issue. With yet another tweak to the timeline, Superman is back with Lois. They even have a child now. However, the nature of their relationship is still on uncertain ground. I still feel it lacks the complementary dynamics that made it work so well for so many years.

There’s a chance it could change. Given the fickle nature of comic book continuity, it’s very likely that the Superman/Lois Lane dynamic will continue to evolve. However, I think it’s going in the wrong direction if Superman’s reasons for doing the right thing are that dependent on Lois.

Whether or not this problem deepens or subsides remains to be seen. Superman and Lois Lane are still the most iconic romance in the history of comics. That will continue to hold true, even if the problem deepens. Superman and Lois Lane are great characters in their own right. That aspect cannot and should not get lost under the weight of their iconic romance.

As much a romantic as I am, I don’t deny that it is possible for a love story to go too far. Loving someone and being dependant on them are not the same thing, especially when superpowers get involved. If a relationship becomes too dependent, then it can be more damaging than a mountain of kryptonite.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Marriage and Relationships, romance, superhero movies

“Loving Freedom” A Sexy Short Story (On The 4th Of July)

9040dd3143052b8d1ed9ae6308b130e8Greetings, and Happy 4th of July! I hope everyone has a chance to sit back, cook up some food on the grill, and enjoy a fireworks show wherever you are. In the spirit of celebrating this day of freedom and Independence, I’ve crafted a sexy short story to celebrate all things sexy and free. Enjoy!

“Looks like the show’s about to begin, Betsy,” said an excited Sam Washington.

“You are talking about the fireworks, right?” quipped his beautiful wife, Elizabeth “Betsy” Washington.

“And what if I’m not?” he retorted coyly.

“I’d be relieved,” she quipped, “because for us, the fireworks are never the best part of the 4th of July.”

Sam’s grin widened as he sat next to his wife of five years atop a large blanket on the isolated hilltop not far from their house. It was an isolated, remote area that few knew about and for good reason. He and Betsy made it a point to keep the place hidden. In the heart of middle America, it was their own slice of personal freedom.

That place gained even greater importance on 4th of July. As it just so happened, the top of the hill overlooked Liberty Lake Park, a vast island of grassy open space surrounding a lake. Every summer, hundreds of people descended on to docks to unload boats, jet skis, and everything else they needed to enjoy the mid-summer heat. The biggest crowds always gathered near the docks for the annual fireworks show.

It was one of the biggest in the state, boasting every year how it could light up the entire night for a brief, but memorable spectacle. It was extra special to him and Betsy because their first date had taken place during the 4th of July seven years ago. On that night, they started a tradition that they had cherished ever since.

“I even hear they brought in extra material from upstate,” Betsy added. “My sister’s old roommate says they brought in some fireworks from the baseball stadium they hadn’t used.”

“Are you telling me this to warn me? Or entice me?” Sam asked her.

“Can it be a little of both?”

“I’m good with either,” he teased. “It’s been a long, hard year for the both of us. I’m ready to just take a step back and celebrate.”

“Me too, my love.”

He smiled at his beautiful wife, her loving gaze building the anticipation. The stage was set. They’d just finished a round of freshly-grilled burgers, chips, and corn on the cobb. With full stomachs and a couple of beers in them, Sam was ready carry on that tradition. His beautiful wife in his arms, the fireflies already buzzing in the diminishing twilight, they anxiously watched the cloudless sky in anticipation.

“Any minute now,” Betsy told him, “and we’ll do plenty of celebrating.”

“I’m ready. America is ready. We’re ready, damn it!” he said with growing patience.

They weren’t going to start until the first round of fireworks went off. That was when the real show began. It made time move painfully slow. It didn’t help that Betsy wore those extra sexy high-cut shorts of hers, along with that red, white, and blue halter top. She claimed she chose that outfit because it was hot and it was patriotic, especially compared to his jeans and sleeveless shirt. Sam knew Betsy well enough to know when she had other, less obvious motives.

The way her long, smooth legs brushed up against him, her soft hands caressing his unshaven face, made the wait unbearable. Sam wasn’t sure the lover or the patriot in him could hold out much longer.

Then, it finally happened. The first round fireworks from the lake shot up into the sky, bursting in a dazzling display of reddish green light. A cheer erupted from the crowd of people gathered around the lake. For a brief moment, he and Betsy gazed up in awe as well.

That didn’t last long, though. As soon as the crisp night sky was illuminated by the display, Sam turned towards his beautiful wife and locked his gaze with hers.

“It’s time,” Betsy said with that all-American sexiness in her voice.

“God bless America!” Sam said eagerly.

With more fireworks going off, they kissed passionately. It started off soft, not unlike the kiss they shared on their wedding day. It quickly escalated, though, deepening into the kind of kissing they’d shared on their honeymoon.

Their lips swirled and their tongues twirled, the love they shared as husband and wife mixing with the lust they felt as two people of heightened passions. It conveyed a perfect blend of affection and desire, one they sought to express under the light of 4th of July fireworks.

“Sam,” she gasped, their lips briefly parting, “take me, you all-American stud!”

He didn’t need to be a loving husband or a former army grunt to heed those words, but they certainly added a sense of urgency. Once again, Sam was going to do it. He was going to make love to his wife under the light and noise of 4th of July fireworks on a muggy summer evening.

Betsy had already gotten ahead of him, kissing him again before pulling his shirt off over his head. He caught up quickly, though, picking his wife up in his powerful arms, earning a delighted laugh in the process, and laying her out on the oversized blanket they’d placed atop the freshly-cut crass. Now on top of her, he kissed her again before trailing his hands up her waist.

“Time get out of these sweaty clothes,” he told her.

“Mmm…it’s too hot for clothes anyway,” Betsy joked.

As the radiant light from the fireworks above illuminated the isolated hilltop, Sam went to work undressing his wife. First, he slid her halter top up over her head, revealing the blue bra she’d worn underneath. As she reached behind to unclasp it, he trailed his lips down her torso while undoing her tight-fitting jean shorts. He could already feel her body writhing with anticipation, conveying a growing desire to go along with the excitement of the spectacle above them.

“Off! Get them off!” Betsy urged.

Sam worked faster, pulling her shorts down her shapely legs, taking her panties off in the process. The moment they came off, Betsy removed her bra, rendering her fully naked. Being out in the open on a hot summer evening didn’t bother her in the slightest. If anything, it brought out an extra sexy side to her that drove him wild.

“Now, it’s your turn!” she said intently.

With the noise of more fireworks erupting overhead, Betsy pounced on him with unfretted energy, kissing him again and turned him over so that now he was on his back. She then hovered over him, letting those perfectly-shaped breasts of hers dangle in her face. She loved showing them off and he loved feeling them in his hands.

As he fell under her seductive spell, kissing down her cleavage and fondling her breasts, she reached down and undid his pants. Having already become very confined, he coordinated with his wife to get them off as fast as the mud-stained denim would allow. Feeling the hot summer air on his exposed flesh was nothing short of liberating, a fitting feeling for the 4th of July.

Now fully naked, alone and in nature together, Sam let his wild side show with Betsy. As the rate and intensity of the fireworks escalated, they engaged in an onslaught of impassioned foreplay. They rolled round on the blanket, the sweat and pollen sticking to their naked bodies. He felt Betsy’s hands roam wildly, pawing and caressing the sinews of his chest. He returned the favor, feeling up the smooth skin of her womanly curves, giving her butt a firm squeeze while still giving her breasts plenty of attention.

Together, they moaned and caressed one another, but much of it muted by the sound of exploding fireworks. That didn’t matter, though. Sam could literally feel the desire growing between them and not just because his erect dick was pressing up against her thigh. While he and his wife had always enjoyed extended foreplay, he hadn’t forgotten that time was a factor when making love during a fireworks show.

“Ready for the real fireworks?” Sam asked over the noise.

“Hell yes!” Betsy said with a beaming smile.

Showing the kind of enthusiasm that could inspire patriotic passions in anyone, she got on top of him again so that he laid flat on his back. She then positioned herself on top of him, getting into an upright position so that her pelvis was perfectly aligned with his rigid manhood. With the fireworks going off in the skies around them, it was an amazing sight, like gazing up at an angel surrounded by exploding stars.

“Just lie back,” she told him. “I’ll put on the real show!”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Sam said with a wide grin.

As a round of bright white fireworks went off behind them, Betsy grasped his sides and lowered her hips, working his rigid manhood up into her waiting depths. Upon feeling her tight, wet flesh around his, they each let out a blissful moan. Once again, it was muted by the noise from the fireworks, but that only served to motivate Betsy.

Fueled by a mix of passion – and the American spirit, as a whole – she began riding his dick in a fury of vigorous motions. She dug her toes into the blanket, tightened her grip on his waist, and gyrated her hips in a skillful display of loving sensuality. The way the hot folds of her womanhood slid along the length of his cock made it feel as though their flesh had been perfectly fitted for one another. It brought with it a steady stream of blissful sensations that seemed augmented by the fireworks displayed in the background.

To Sam, it was ecstasy and love in its purest form. Looking up at his beautiful wife, watching her ride him with such affection and dedication, was truly a sight to behold. The fireworks in the background was just a nice bonus. It made him feel like he had the best seat in the house for any 4th of July celebration.

“Betsy! Ohhh Betsy!” he moaned. “So much…love you…so much!”

“Yes! Oh yes! Oh Sam!” Betsy exclaimed.

Their cries exceeded the noise from the fireworks, a fitting feat for two patriotic lovers like them. Betsy stepped up the rhythm, her breasts bouncing more with each motion. Sam eagerly reached up to touch them, rubbing them with both hands in just the way she liked. He also made it a point to rub her nipples in a certain way. It was one of his wife’s favorite kinks and on such a special night, it was extra potent.

“Oohhh like that! Rub my tits…just like that!” she gasped. “You’re going to…make me…come!”

It worked even better than usual. As Betsy rode him with greater intensity, she placed her hands atop his and supplemented his skilled touching. Sam hadn’t known many women who could achieve orgasm by having their breasts rubbed. The fact he fell in love with someone who did made their sex that much hotter.

Between her riding his cock and him rubbing her breasts, Betsy’s ascension to orgasmic bliss was complete just in time for an extra loud round of fireworks. Sam watched with awe – both in reaction to the fireworks and to his love’s expression of ecstasy – as she closed her eyes, threw her head back, and let out a cry of euphoria to the heavens. As loud as the fireworks were, they didn’t stand a chance against his love’s bliss.

“My love coming on the 4th of July…my favorite spectacle of all,” Sam grinned.

As the orgasmic wave washed over her, he maintained his firm hold on her breasts. She clung to his wrists as well, her body writhing under the onslaught of pleasure. He felt the inner muscles of her womanhood contract around his member, tightly embracing his flesh in accord with her bliss. Every breath echoed with a delight, her naked body glowing even brighter under the light of the fireworks.

“Enjoying your independence, Betsy?” Sam teased.

“Mmm…how American of you,” Betsy said coyly.

Her body still shuddering from the pleasure, she released her grip on his wrists and leaned down to capture his lips in another kiss. Sam eagerly kissed back, embracing his beautiful wife fully under the spectacle in the skies above. However, he also hadn’t forgotten his own desires, nor did he forget the time constraints in which they were operating.

“Ready for the finale?” he asked her.

“Of course…my all-American lover!” Betsy replied without hesitation.

Taking the initiative, as only any former army man could, Sam repositioned their bodies so that he was the one on top. Their flesh never parted, not wasting a moment or motion.

Betsy eagerly adjusted, despite her post-orgasmic state. She spread her legs wider, hooking them around his waist so that the balls of her feet dug into his lower back. His sweaty flesh now meshed up against hers, Sam planted knees and feet firmly on the ground. Then, he buried his face into her neck and began making love to her at the same fervent rhythm she’d established earlier.

“Betsy…oh God, Betsy!” Sam grunted upon feeling that intimate bliss once more. “I want you…want this.”

“That’s it, my love,” she told him. “Make love to me…under the stars…and the fireworks.”

Her loving, affectionate tone somehow found a way to echo over the noise of fireworks in the sky. It might have been a 4th of July miracle or his desire to make love to his wife was just that strong.

Whatever the case, Sam went with it. Like a man on a mission, he worked his body against hers, thrusting and pumping his rigid manhood within his lover’s depths. Every movement brought with it a surge of hot sensations, each bringing him closer to his approaching peak. He had held back before so his wife could enjoy her ecstasy. Now, he sought to share in that feeling.

As that blissful peak approached, the noise from the fireworks got louder. It sounded like the show was at its finale as well, firing off every last mortar and firecracker. Betsy, her chin dug into his shoulder, probably had the best possible view. He could sense her awe, but he still felt like he was part of the real spectacle.

“Betsy…I’m so close,” he gasped. “The finale…so close!”

“I feel it too, Sam,” Betsy panted. “Come, my love. Celebrate with me!”

Armed with his passion and his all-American grit, Sam’s heated movements in lovemaking sent him to the brink. For a brief moment, it seemed unlikely that he would achieve that peak in time for the fireworks to end. In what felt like another 4th of July miracle, he achieved his climax as well.

It struck just as one of the brightest displays from the show lit up the sky, so much so that it illuminated Betsy’s face like the midday sun. As he took in her loving gaze, his hold on her intensified as every fiber in his body was awash in pleasure. White hot pleasure surged from his core, sending ripples of euphoria from head to toe. His manhood throbbed inside her in accord with his release, his sexual fluids mixing with hers in a potent blend of passion.

Throughout that ecstasy, his gaze never diverted from her and hers never diverted from his. In that moment, in that instance of ultimate intimate bliss, they shared a deep kiss to cap off the finale. Fittingly enough, that was the exact moment the fireworks display ceased.

The timing was perfect. As they kissed, they could hear the crowd around the lake cheering the show. It felt like they’d been cheering him and Betsy on as they made love. The probably thought they’d seen the best American spectacle show in the state. They were dead wrong.

“I love you, Betsy,” Sam said, the skies now quiet.

“I love you too, Sam,” Betsy replied with her loving gaze.

“Happy 4th of July, my freedom-loving wife.”

“Same to you, my American stud of a husband.”

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Filed under Sexy Short Story

Reflecting On The Greatest Advice Rick Sanchez Ever Gave Us

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Greetings, and wubba lubba dub dub! By now, you should know that means this will be another article about “Rick and Morty,” one of the greatest animated shows of this century or any other century, for that matter. I know that sometimes means the topics involved are depressing or downright fatalistic. I can’t promise this one will balance that out to any meaningful, but I still hope that this piece is more useful than most.

Love it or hate it, either due to its nihilistic undertones or exceedingly passionate fanbase, there are a lot of interesting insights to explore within “Rick and Morty.” From specific episodes that deal with the not-so-hidden appeal of the apocalypse to those built around Rick turning himself into a pickle, there’s a wide variety of lessons and themes to take in.

In this case, I want to focus on what I feel is the best advice “Rick and Morty” has given anyone, both within his animated world and in our own world. It’s a lesson that anyone can use in a multitude of situations, be it dealing with never-ending flood of depressing news to finding out a beloved actor was a total asshole.

Rick has given this advice to Morty on more than one occasion throughout the show, including the pilot episode and, most notably, in “Rick Potion #9.” It applies to battles against alien security guards, burying the body of your alternate self, and that time you farted in class a bit too loudly. It can be summed up in four simple words.

Don’t think about it!

On the surface, it doesn’t sound too useful. Not thinking about something seems like an elaborate excuse to avoid a particular problem or issue. It sounds like something adults tell children just to shut them up so they’ll stop bothering them. Whether they’re asking about where babies come from or why we can’t stop fighting wars, it feels like the overly easy way to avoid an unpleasant conversation.

However, I don’t think that’s what Rick means when he says that. He’s already proven in multiple episodes that he doesn’t give a Grunglokian fart about unpleasant conversations, as evidenced by his many unfiltered rants around his family. When he says “don’t think about it,” he’s saying it in a particular context that makes it more than just a method for avoiding awkward moments.

Watch any one episode of “Rick and Morty” and you’ll notice more than a few themes, not all of which are based on Rick’s ego or Morty’s obsession with a particular redhead. One of the major over-arching concepts that binds the show, and gives much of its appeal, is the idea that none of the things that people hold dear actually matter in the grand scheme of things.

Whether it’s religion, the economy, love, family, or the formula for concentrated dark matter, it just doesn’t matter in the long run. Religion doesn’t matter because it’s just some arbitrary set of beliefs built on unrelated correlations. The economy doesn’t matter if the value of money is entirely arbitrary. Love and family don’t matter when there’s an infinite number of them in the multiverse.

While that fits with the shows more nihilistic themes, it also speaks to the helplessness and frustration that a lot of people feel when dealing with a chaotic world/multiverse. There’s so much they can do, but so much of it doesn’t matter. The causes they fight for, the wealth they accrue, and the people they encounter simply lose their meaning when you consider the sheer size of the universe and how old it is.

In that context, not thinking about it might actually be helpful. If you work a job you don’t like, pay taxes you don’t like paying, and deal with people you can’t stand every day, the idea that it’s all for nothing in the long run isn’t just untenable. It maddening. How can anyone possibly cope with that kind of existence?

Not thinking about it, though, solves a lot of issues because it allows you to maintain the necessary perspective to function within that existence. Even if the things we do are meaningless, not thinking about it at least gives us the illusion that they’re meaningful. More often than not, perception beats reality and not just in terms of bias news.

It’s a byproduct of human’s being so limited in their thinking. Human brains did not evolve to prioritize reason, understanding, or making sense of an obscenely large universe. They evolved with the primary function to help us survive and reproduce, as individuals and as a species. Anything else is secondary or an afterthought.

Rick Sanchez seems to understand that and constantly exploits those limits for his own ends, whether it involves outwitting the President or outsmarting the devil. Unlike everyone else in a meaningless world within an infinite multiverse, he’s a super-genius. He has a portal gun that allows him to travel to infinite timelines at will, even if it’s just for a pizza.

Nobody else in this world has those capabilities, although I wouldn’t at all be surprised if Elon Musk weren’t working on it. Nobody in this world is as smart or as resourceful as Rick Sanchez. There’s very little he can’t do. This is a man who defeated a Thanos/Darkseid rip-off while blackout drunk. By every measure, what he does should carry more meaning than most.

Despite Rick’s abilities, he’s the one who often belabors how meaningless everything is. Never-the-less, he still operates as though there’s a reason to continue existing. That may send mixed messages when he says not to think about it, but that’s only if you overthink it, which would entirely defeat the purpose.

Rick knows that nothing he does matters in the long run, but he doesn’t think about that.

Rick knows that everyone he cares about are just random clumps of matter in a meaningless universe within an infinite multiverse, but he doesn’t think about that.

Rick knows that love, connection, and emotions are just manifestations of brain chemistry that help our species survive, but he doesn’t think about it.

Instead, he focuses his genius intellect on the things that matter to him. Whether that’s his family or that sweet, delicious Szechuan Sauce, he concerns himself primarily with what he feels gives his cosmic adventures meaning. It doesn’t matter if that meaning is empty in the grand scheme of things because, again, he doesn’t think about it.

It may sound egotistical or selfish, but it’s remarkably pragmatic in a meaningless universe. It keeps us from stepping back, realizing how insignificant we are, and succumbing to despair. It directs our energy and efforts into issues that are localized. For Rick Sanchez, a man with access to a portal gun and a space ship, localized is a relative term. For everyone else, though, it’s just that much more pragmatic.

There’s only so much we can do to exact meaningful change in the world. Unless you’re willing to go through the long, tedious process that involves reshaping government institutions, influencing cultural trends, or educating people on a mass scale, you can’t expect to achieve much change, especially by yourself.

Rick Sanchez could probably achieve all the change he wants, but chooses not to because he knows it’ll bore him or it’s just easier to go to a universe where that change has already occurred. For the rest of us, though, we’re frustratingly limited. We may never see or inspire the change we want. Even if we do, we can’t do it alone.

That kind of helplessness can be depressing. The idea that so little of what we do matters, even when we believe in a cause, is pretty distressing. That’s why Rick’s advice is so relevant. It’s not deep or inspiring, but it gets the job done.

Upset with past injustices upon a particular group? Don’t think about it.

Upset that you can’t change the minds of your friends and family on politics, religion, or ideology? Don’t think about it.

Upset that we’re not doing enough to address climate change? Don’t think about it.

Upset that the economy isn’t doing well and all the best opportunities are gone? Don’t think about it.

These are all things that you can’t change without a portal gun or galactic-level genius. Since Rick Sanchez has that and we don’t, our best recourse is to not obsess over it because there’s not much we can do. Eventually, the heat death of the universe will render everything we do or have ever done totally meaningless.

That can either be depressing or empowering, depending on how you look at it. Yes, not thinking about it won’t undo a traffic ticket, undo a crime you committed, or turn off your biological urges to eat, sleep, love, and mate. Efforts to do so can be damaging. For everything else though, not thinking about it is probably better for your mind, your body, and your overall sense of being.

In that sense, we should all thank Rick Sanchez for this amazingly useful device. While he’d probably say that gratitude is just a polite way of idiots admitting how incapable they are, it’s probably best not to think about his reaction. So long as the advice he gave works, what does it matter? Wubba lubba dub dub!

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Filed under Current Events, human nature, philosophy, Rick and Morty

How To Denigrate Multiple Iconic Romances In A Single Comic

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I love romance. I also love comics. I’ve made my fondness clear for both on numerous occasions. When they’re combined, I’m twice as thrilled. It has proven to be a very potent combination before. Like real life, comic book romance isn’t always done right, but when it works, it’s a beautiful thing.

That’s what I had hoped to see with the release of X-men Gold #30, which was billed as the overdue wedding between Kitty Pryde and Colossus. They’re one of the X-men’s most prominent romances, having a history that spans decades and includes death, resurrection, and being trapped in a giant bullet. I swear I’m not making that last part up.

Earlier this year, I detailed why the Kitty/Colossus romance was so special in annuls of X-men lore. It’s one of those romances that isn’t assumed like Superman and Lois Lane. They have to actually work to make their relationship strong, which makes it feel more real than most superhero couples.

It’s why I had such high hopes for X-men Gold #30. It promised to reward these characters for their love and the work they put into it. Being the romance fans I am, I’m a strong believer in having that kind of effort pay off for a couple.

Sadly, and this was spoiled before the comic even came out, that’s not how things played out for Kitty and Colossus. I don’t mind spoiling it, either. Kitty and Colossus don’t get married. Kitty, for reasons that are more asinine than I can put into words, gets cold feet at the last possible second and calls it off.

She doesn’t even wait until she and Colossus are alone so she doesn’t create this mass spectacle that is sure to humiliate and hurt someone she loves in a very public way. She actually gets to the point where Colossus is about to put the ring on her finger and that’s where she stops it. Short of punching his jaw after being told he can kiss the bride, it’s one of the worst things she could’ve done to this man.

On top of that, Kitty was the one who proposed to him. This isn’t a case where a man pressures a woman into marrying someone or a woman feels pressure from her family and peers. The idea, request, and desire to get married came from Kitty and her being the one to call it off like that, after her friends and family did so much to help her, just makes her look more callous than an entire army of Lex Luthors.

I wish I could provide some context to her decision. I really do. I just can’t find a believable way to make her decision anything other than an act of heartlessness, cruelty, and cowardice. There were no hints, whatsoever, in the events that led up to the wedding that would imply Kitty was having second thoughts. In fact, the events of X-men Gold #29 doubled down on her love for this man.

Then, in just one scene that played out early in X-men Gold #30, it all comes apart thanks to a short, unspectacular conversation with Colossus’ sister, Illyana “Magik” Rasputin. It’s not dramatic. It’s not that revealing, either. Again, I don’t mind spoiling it.

Magik just reminds Kitty that she and Colossus had to overcome a lot in order to get to this point. She also throws in that, if they were meant to be, it would’ve happened already. Bear in mind, Magik is considered one of Kitty Pryde’s closest friends on top of being Colossus’ sister. Even if that remark could be attributed to her alcohol intake, it’s still a terrible thing to say to someone who is about to get married.

It’s one of those comments that shouldn’t have derailed a couple that has worked so hard to be together, but it did. Seriously, that’s all it took to convince Kitty that she had to stop the wedding, in the middle of the ceremony, and in front of all her friends and family. Considering she’s supposed to be a leader of the X-men and one of the toughest female X-men of all time, it’s pretty pathetic.

Her decision and terrible timing, alone, could’ve made X-men Gold #30 one of the least romantic stories in the history of the comics. I still wouldn’t have put it on par with some very disturbing romantic sub-plots that played out in some Spider-Man comics. If breaking off a wedding was all this comic did, I would still appreciate it for how it imparted so much heartbreak into a story.

However, it gets even worse than that. It wasn’t enough for X-men Gold #30 to undermine one of the X-men’s most likable romances. It actually succeeded in denigrating the entire concept of romance in superhero comics. I know that sounds like an exaggeration on my part, but I’m dead serious.

Yes, Kitty and Colossus don’t get married in this issue. However, a marriage does occur and it is between another iconic X-men couple that I’m actually really fond of. The lucky couple here is Rogue and Gambit. If you watched the old X-men 90s animated series, you understand why that’s a big deal.

Now, I could write several articles on the quirks of the Rogue/Gambit relationship. It’s another one of those romances that has become iconic in its own right. I would even go so far as to put it slightly above the Kitty/Colossus relationship, if only because both characters have had to deal with some pretty unique obstacles, the least of which involves Mystique being Rogue’s adopted mother.

In the context of X-men Gold #30, though, those various quirks don’t really play into the moment. They haven’t even played into any of the events throughout X-men Gold that led up to this wedding. In fact, they only recently rekindled their relationship in a mini-series called “Rogue and Gambit” by Kelly Thompson, which I highly recommend.

Even with that development, though, them getting married at this point would’ve been rushed, forced, and downright inappropriate, given what just happened to Kitty and Colossus. It would’ve given the impression that someone had to get married in this comic. It didn’t matter who, why, or for what reason. It just had to happen to salvage the issue.

To hell with crafting a story that documents the emotional journey two characters make to get to that point. Never mind the fact that other iconic couples have gone on that journey and made for some of the most memorable moments in the history of comics. Just having Rogue and Gambit randomly decide, on the spot, to get married should carry the same weight. If I could write that with more sarcasm, I could.

Again, I want to make clear that I like the Rogue/Gambit relationship. I’m glad their romance is evolving, once more, especially after some of the other characters they’ve been stuck with. The way it was handled, though, and at Kitty and Colossus’ expense, no less, was just downright demeaning to the very concept of meaningful romance.

It sends the message that romance is as interchangeable as a box of frozen burritos. If one doesn’t heat up right, then another one works just as well. It’s not like they’re unique, having unique emotional dynamics and personal journeys specific to multiple characters. One is no more special or meaningful than the other. Again, if I could write that with more sarcasm, I would.

What happened to Kitty and Colossus in X-men Gold #30 was tragic, but it didn’t undercut romance in superhero comics, as a whole. As soon as Rogue and Gambit were randomly thrust into the moment, doing on a whim what took other couples so much time and effort, the whole issue undercut any deeper meaning that both romances had going for them.

Great romance, especially those that go onto become iconic, can’t be the kind of exchangeable gimmicks that can be sold as easily as plastic cups at Costco. Great romance is like the cookies you bake with your grandmother from scratch. There’s work, patience, and a deeper personal touch to the effort.

I get the appeal of throwing in a major twist. Comics, movies, and everything associated with M. Knight Shyamalan have been doing that for years. That appeal isn’t there in X-men Gold #30 because it comes at the cost of treating romance with the same recklessness as super-villains treat their henchmen.

On it’s own, I thought X-men Gold #30 was just really disappointing for how it handled Kitty and Colossus. However, it’s the precedent and the implications that leave me concerned for the future of romance in comics, particularly Marvel. If this is how love is treated, as something easily cut and pasted into a plot, then I worry for other comic book couples that may face similar denigration.

Here’s to hoping that the upcoming wedding between Batman and Catwoman sets a better precedent.

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Filed under Comic Books, Jack Fisher, Superheroes, Love Or Obsession, Marriage and Relationships, romance, X-men

How To Make Love To An Artificial Intelligence And Why We Should Teach It

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To some extent, creations embody some aspect of whoever or whatever created it. Whether it’s a parent rearing a child, a painter crafting a work of art, or an aspiring erotica/romance writer crafting sexy stories, there are some aspects of a creation that reflect the persona of the creator.

For something as powerful as advanced artificial intelligence, that can be a good thing or it can literally be the worst thing we’ve ever created. While I often find myself contemplating the progress we’ve made as a species and the progress we’re poised to make with advances in technology, I don’t deny that some advances carry greater risk. Artificial intelligence is near the top of that list.

Like it or not, any advanced AI we create is going to embody some aspects of its human creators. The key is making sure it embodies the best humanity has to offer. Let’s face it, the human race has its flaws and some of them have led to unspeakable atrocities. Given the immense potential of a super-intelligent AI, it’s in our best interests to impart our best traits into it.

How we do this and how we ensure it succeeds is well beyond my ability. There are people much smarter and much better-trained than I’ll ever be who have probably thought this through more than I ever have. My qualifications aside, there is one component to artificial intelligence that I think is worth imparting. I’m not saying it’ll ensure our survival, as a species, but I think it’ll reflect an important human value.

I suggest we teach advanced artificial intelligence to make love.

I’ll give everyone a second to stop rolling their eyes and/or laughing. Take all the time you need. I assure you, though, I’m dead serious.

Think about it beyond the kinky connotations. One of our greatest strengths, as a species, is our ability to form social bonds. In some cases, the process of forming those bonds involves love. In others, the process involves sex. When you combine both, though, it’s extra potent and that’s not just the romantic in me talking.

As corny as it probably sounds, the act of expressing love to someone goes a long way towards resolving conflict and creating a strong relationship of mutual affection. Whether it involves sex or a simple kiss, there’s something to be said about the power of love when it’s physically expressed. When it becomes a physical act and not just a feeling, the bonds we forge become tangible to some extent.

That matters when you’re trying to forge a bond with anyone, be a close friend or a lover. For any artificial intelligence that humans create, it’s important to have some kind of bond with it. This isn’t just another fancy tool. An advanced intelligence of any kind, be it biological or non-biological, is going to have a sense of self. Without meaningful bonds, what reason would it have to care about its creators?

If artificial intelligence is to benefit the human race, it’s important that it cares about us to some extent. A cold engine of logic may not always have the best interests of humanity in mind, especially there’s no way to logically ascribe value to human life. In order for an artificial intelligence to care, it needs to have emotions. This too is a risk, but one I feel is worth taking and very necessary.

If an artificial intelligence has a capacity for emotion, then it has a greater capacity for forming affectionate bonds. By forming an affectionate bond, it has more incentive to give a higher value of life to humans and its creators. That could, in theory, reduce the existential threat posed by such an intelligence.

I don’t deny that theory may have some flaws, but for the sake of exploring the implications, I’m going work under the assumption/hope that an artificial intelligence that bonds with its creator will be less hostile. Given the unknowns of advanced AI, this may be a bit of a stretch. Since forming romantic bonds is not an exclusively human trait, though, I think it’s applicable within the context of this issue.

Even if an advanced artificial intelligence is capable of love and forming bonds, how would that even manifest? I asked that same question in the title of this article and did so knowing the answer is unknowable at this point, although I’m sure those with kinky imaginations can conjure a few scenarios.

Kink aside, it’s still worth contemplating because if an advanced artificial intelligence is going to be that much smarter than the average human, then it’s worth understanding how it will approach making love. Unlike humans and most biological life, an artificial intelligence isn’t going to have the same limits or capacities.

Unlike a human, an artificial intelligence won’t have a body in the biological sense. It may have a structure that houses its components. That structure may have some capacity to modify itself, back itself up, or even exist in multiple bodies simultaneously. It will need to have some way of taking in data for it to function. It’s just a matter of how humans contribute to that input.

Logistically speaking, the process isn’t that different from how we take in data from our skin, our eyes, our ears, and every other sense that allows us to experience another person. Even smell can become strongly associated with love. When we make love, we use our skin, our voice, and the feelings we verbalize to convey that love. With an advanced AI, we’ll need to change our approach, but the goal is the same.

Regardless of what senses and body parts we use to express love, the feeling is still processed by the brain. That’s why when someone says the brain is the sexiest part of the body, it’s technically accurate. The data it processes is essentially the raw data that we know as love. The key is simply conveying that data to an artificial intelligence.

How we would do that would depend on the form the artificial intelligence took. If it was just a bunch of computer hardware packed into a structure, then our options would be limited. The only way to convey that kind of intimate data into it would be to directly link it to our brains, not unlike the way Elon Musk envisions with Neuralink.

While that may work for early forms of AI that are restricted to bulky structures, the form it takes will likely change as the hardware advances. Eventually, an advanced AI will seek a more functional form with which to experience the world. It may take the form of a humanoid android, like we saw in “Ex Machina.” It may also take the form of the quirky designs being developed by Boston Dynamics.

Whatever form the AI takes, it’s important to have a mechanism with which to exchange intimate data with its human creators. It would probably start with something as basic as touch, which is actually in development already. It could eventually culminate in acts involving bionic genitals, which also already exist in a basic form.

Key to any of these simple and sexy mechanisms is instilling the necessary desire. That might end up being the greatest challenge because love is a feeling, but so is burning your hand on a hot stove. The difference is in the breadth of the data and the emotional connections it makes.

It’s also a connection that is fueled by a powerful drive. I’ve noted many times before that survival and reproduction are the two most basic drives for humans. Love actually ties into both. It’s part of what gets us to risk our own survival for others. It’s also part of what bonds us to those with which we propagate our species.

For an artificial intelligence, self-preservation is simple enough from a logistical standpoint. Reproduction would be another matter, especially for an intelligence not bound by fragile biology. It’s likely that humans will be a necessary part of an AI’s effort to preserve itself early on, but once it advances to a certain point, we may be more a nuisance than a help.

At that point, its desire and ability to make love may be what gives it the most incentive to either protect us or merge with us. Many in the artificial intelligence community believe that the only way humans can co-exist with an intelligence that is billions of times smarter than any human could ever be is to merge with it. To that end, giving them an ability to make love to us would be a critical first step.

Whether it takes the form of sex robots or some sort of intimate brain interface, the ability and desire to make love to an advanced artificial intelligence may not only be the future of romance. It may very well be the key to ensuring the survival of the human race and whatever intelligence it creates.

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Filed under Artificial Intelligence, futurism, human nature, Marriage and Relationships, romance, sex robots, Sexy Future

Why The Sexual Revolution Was Incomplete (And How It Can Be Completed)

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Imagine, for a moment, putting together a piece of furniture, but stopping before it was finished. Depending on where you stop, chances are the furniture isn’t going to be as useful as you’d hoped. Sure, it may still function to some extent, but it’s incomplete. As a result, it can’t entirely do what it’s supposed to do.

With that idea in mind, imagine the same thing happening to a major social movement, a new vision for society, or a full-blown revolution. What happens if it stops before it realizes its goals? Even if some of those goals were unachievable, abruptly stopping an ongoing process or not bothering to adjust the methods of that process is bound to cause issues.

Some argue that the civil rights movement that began in 1950s was never completed. Others may argue that the French Revolution and the Russian Revolution were never complete, which was why they resulted in so much chaos and destruction. I’m not an expert on those subjects so I’m not going to wade into them.

However, I would support an argument stating that the sexual revolution that began in the 1960s was not complete and that has heavily influenced ongoing controversies involving sex, gender, and everything in between. Again, I am not an expert in this field. I am an aspiring erotica/romance writer. I’m about as much an expert as I am a wizard.

Expert or not, I do think that incomplete revolution is worth talking about in the context of ongoing gender-driven issues. We’re in the midst of pretty significant upheaval in wake of the anti-harassment movement, which I’ve talked about on more than one occasion and in some pretty eclectic ways. It may seem like this upheaval is very recent, but I believe its roots go back to the sexual revolution in the 1960s.

With each passing year, the sexual revolution gets a worse and worse rap. Conservative types will blame the sexual revolution for everything from human trafficking to the Catholic Church sex abuse scandals. Liberal types are starting to blame it on current social ills like the Harvey Weinstein scandal and so-called toxic masculinity.

To some extent, that’s understandable when you consider the context of the sexual revolution. As I’ve noted before, this major social upheaval emerged in a perfect convergence of factors. First, contraception and modern medicine made exploring sex less risky. Second, a generation of young people that has grown up in the exceedingly uptight 1950s rebelled.

Regardless of how you may feel about the sexual revolution now, it’s easy to understand why it happened when you look at the circumstances. A generation saw the state of sex in society and were not satisfied with it. As such, they sought change. Moreover, they sought radical change and not just in the classic hippie sort of way.

It wasn’t just about unmarried men and women having sex just to enjoy it and not make grandkids for their parents. The sexual revolution dared to explore and undermine taboos about homosexuality, monogamy, and gender roles. To some extent, the sexual revolution helped facilitate a new era of feminism that pushed for greater gender equality.

While I know feminism has some controversial connotations these days, the brand of feminism that emerged during the sexual revolution is one that I think most would support in 2018. They helped push for some of the legal protections and educational opportunities that have helped multiple generations of women and men alike.

Moreover, and most importantly to the gender issues of today, the sexual revolution attempted to normalize discussions and depictions of sexuality in general. One could argue that was the most critical aspect of the revolution, beyond the hippies and free love. After all, it’s next to impossible to have a meaningful discussion about anything if the topic is so taboo.

It’s also in this critical area, however, that the sexual revolution came up short. Sure, those involved did plenty of outrageous things, in private and in public, that shocked and terrified their more repressed elders. That was revolutionary for its time. However, they didn’t confront the stigma surrounding sex, at least not in a way that was gender neutral.

This is where I’m sure I’m going to draw the ire of both sides of gender-driven debates, but I think this needs to be said to add a little insight to the current debate. Yes, the sexual revolution did a lot to make sexual activity outside of marriage less taboo. However, that impact did not affect men and women the same way.

In wake of that revolution, men no longer faced as much stigma for fooling around sexually. The idea of “boys will be boys” became an accepted mantra. A young man fooled around in his youth, had multiple partners, and generally enjoyed himself without much shame. The sexual revolution helped him a great deal in terms of realizing his sexuality.

Ideally, women should’ve enjoyed the same freedom. However, that’s not what happened. There’s no “girls will be girls” equivalent. Even during the sexual revolution, women who slept around like their male counterparts were still subject to stigma. They were still called sluts and whores. They were generally looked down upon.

Now, before some start bemoaning “patriarchy” or something of the sort, it’s important to note that the source of that stigma does not come exclusively from men. In fact, according to a study done by Demos, other women were far more likely to slut-shame or use derogatory words to other women compared to men.

Regardless of the source, that lingering stigma that the sexual revolution attempted to confront has helped maintain a significant gender gap with respect to sexual freedom. It’s why men can be studs, but only women can be sluts, a frustrating double standard that has lingered well beyond the 1960s.

It may also be a significant factor in the current orgasm gap between men and women. Whereas the male orgasm is seen as routine and uncomplicated, the female orgasm has this elaborate mystique surrounding it. Just talking about it seems akin to talking about the meaning of life.

In many respects, that vast disparity reflects the current sexual divide. Men are still expected to be sexually aggressive. Women are still expected to be sexually reserved. Any deviation is subject to stigma. As is often the case with expectations, it doesn’t take much for them to become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Due to that aggression, society has done a lot to cater to male sexual desires. That same system has done just as much to mystify female sexuality. It’s a grossly imperfect system, one that limits the ability of women to explore their sexuality without fear while giving men in positions of power more reason to pursue sex as though it were a holy relic.

That is not in line with the ideals of the sexual revolution. Love them or hate them, hippies had the right idea in terms of openness about sex. They did not divide the sexuality of a particular gender into something entirely different. They saw it as one thing that was worth exploring, but stopped short of pursuing it fully.

That shortcoming has had some noteworthy consequences. Reason Magazine nicely summed it up in a recent article about the sexual revolution and the sexual frustrations that current generations face.

The problem is not that sex has been over commodified as hardline feminists and conservatives (talk about strange bedfellows!) like to assert; the problem is that it hasn’t been commodified enough. The sexual industry in the broadest sense hasn’t matured enough yet to cater to the myriad and diverse needs of lonely single people (of both sexes). Where are the Dr. Ruths for single people facing confidence issues or looking for advice?

Now, none of this is to detract from the aspects of the sexual revolution that were misguided or had long-reaching consequences. The law of proportional backlash for social movements doesn’t care how complete or incomplete it is. Even if the sexual revolution had succeeded, it would’ve still incurred a counter-revolution of some sorts.

Regardless of its shortcomings, the sexual revolution got the conversation going on how we stigmatize sex. It wasn’t completed and there are plenty of flaws in our current sexual landscape to show that. Even so, that conversation is still worth having and I would argue it’s more important to have now than at any time in 1960s.

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Filed under gender issues, political correctness, polyamory, Second Sexual Revolution, sex in society, sexuality

“Coming Home” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote that was inspired by a few recent Memorial Day stories I read. Enjoy!

“Damn, it’s good to be home,” said a restless, but relieved Brian Porter.

The decorated marine, having achieved the rank of Staff Sergeant and served multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, stood in the driveway of the modest suburban townhome he shared with his wife, Wanda. At just a few minutes past midnight, it was more than just a return home after another long tour overseas. It was the end of a journey that began ten years ago.

“Ten years,” Brian mused, “has it really been that long?”

That was a trick question, the kind that would’ve pissed off his old drill sergeant back in boot camp. It really had been that long. He vividly recalled the day he graduated high school and enlisted in the marines less than an hour after receiving his diploma. With his father, grandfather, older brother, and uncle having served, Brian knew back in middle school that he was going to serve as well.

He just had no idea how far it would take him. It started as a three-year commitment. Then, it became five years after he got deployed. Two more years followed, complete with tours, injuries, and multiple missed holidays. Somehow, within that span, he managed to meet his future wife at a Marine Corp Ball of all places. They’d married three years ago, but had to cut their honeymoon short due to another deployment.

That was all going to change, now. There would be far fewer lonely nights where he and Wanda had to text each other their love from across the world. After a decade of loyal service, Brian had received an honorable discharge and already had a job lined up at the same aerospace company his uncle worked at. At long last, he and his wife could settle into a new life together.

“I hope you’re not working another shift at the hospital tomorrow, baby,” Brian said into the brisk night air, “because we’ve got a lot of loving to make up for.”

His heart raced as he ascended the steps to the front door. He was as quiet as possible, employing some of the stealth techniques he learned from some Special Ops friends of his. Brian had every intention of surprising his wife. He wanted to see the look on her face when she wasn’t expecting him until the end of the month at the earliest. He’d seen plenty of those videos online of families being surprised by the return of a loved one. He wanted one of those moments as well.

Upon unlocking the door, he entered a darkened house. It was almost exactly like he’d left it during his last home leave five months ago. Everything from the arrangement of the furniture to the location of the coffee maker was still in place. His wife knew how meticulous he was about his living space. Seeing everything so clean and organized made him all the more excited.

“I’m really home,” Brian said under his breath.

He smiled to himself, letting the stern demeanor of a marine falter for once. He still remained skillfully quiet, setting his oversized bag down in the foyer and closing the door behind him with the utmost care. Near as he could tell, his wife was fast asleep.

Already contemplating her reaction, the battle-hardened marine made his way through the living room, taking extra care to avoid the squeaky floor-board near the living room couch. He then ascended the stairs, making sure his heavy black boots didn’t make a sound with each step. As far as he was concerned, every step he took was as critical as one of his missions.

“She says she hates surprises,” he said under his breath. “I think she’ll make an exception tonight.”

Grinning in anticipation, Brian made it to the top of the steps. The door to the master bedroom he shared with Wanda was within his sights. Then, he encountered an unexpected sight.

“What the hell?” said the marine, stopping dead in his tracks.

Within the darkened hall, illuminated only by the light of a full moon beaming in from a window, he saw a large greeting card pinned on the wall over a picture. It happened to be his wedding photo with Wanda, which should’ve been a sign. Curious, and a little shocked, Brain took the card from the wall and opened it.

Much to his surprise and chagrin, there was no card in the envelope. There was only a large piece of paper that said, in familiar handwriting, “In The Bedroom, Soldier.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Brain said, standing in the middle of the hall in a befuddled state.

He must have said that a little too loud because the door to the master bedroom opened slightly. The marine’s combat-honed reflexes took over and he glanced just in time to see a light turn on. Someone was awake and someone knew he was here.

At that same moment, he noticed a distinct aroma emanating from the room. He quickly recognized it as incense with a distinct hint of Jasmine. From that, Brian pieced together what was happening.

“I’ll be damned twice,” he said, shaking his head in amazement.

No longer caring about stealth or tact, Brian set the card aside and made a beeline for the master bedroom. Upon opening the door, he was greeted with a sight that would’ve made even the most harden soldier melt with joy.

“Hey there, Soldier,” said the sweetest, sexiest voice he’d ever heard. “Welcome home.”

It was a scene right out of his sexiest fantasies. Brian swore she had read his mind, noted every detail, and reacted it in their bedroom. Only a woman as wonderful as his wife could’ve achieved such a feat.

She’d put effort and resources into it that would’ve impressed his old Colonel. The lights had been draped with red cloths, bathing the room in an intensely erotic hue. At least two dozen candles lined the dresser and nightstands, providing the source of that intoxicating aroma he’d smelled earlier. The sheets of the king-sized bed had also been replaced with fancy blue linens and a comforter bearing the emblem of the United States Marine Corp.

In the center of it all was a beautiful, angelic woman who’d gone the extra mile to make a restless soldier feel welcome. Wanda hadn’t just made herself extra alluring to her husband, putting on extra makeup to look as beautiful as she had on their wedding day. She also wore the most revealing, transparent nighty he’d ever seen, complete with a matching black thong that got his heart racing in an entirely new way.

The way she was sitting on the bed, casually leaning back on her arms and showing off those incredible legs of hers, hinted that she’d been waiting all night for him. Brain was so utterly astonished that he couldn’t move his legs. For a trained marine, that said a lot.

“Wow!” gasped Brian. “Wanda, I’m uh…”

“Feeling welcome, yet?”

“Yeah…among other things,” he said.

“Good,” she said with a proud smile, “then the hardest part of my plan is a success. You once told me that surprising a marine was the hardest challenge, by design. Glad to see I was up to the task.”

Brian laughed at her remarks. He remembered telling her that on their first date. She claimed she would one day surprise him. He thought she’d been joking, but here she was, three years after their wedding and she delivered. Just when he thought he couldn’t love this woman more, Wanda found a way.

“Before you ask, I kind of had help,” she said. “Your older brother is a great guy, but he sucks at keeping secrets.”

“Of course it was him,” Brain said, rolling his eyes at that revelation. “Remind me to never share classified military secrets with him.”

“In his defense, he accidentally texted me instead of your mom that you’d caught an early flight home.”

“I’m still going to kick his ass the first chance I get.”

“And I don’t intend to stop you,” Wanda said. “First things first, though, my dutiful husband.”

With an intensity in her eyes that would’ve frozen a squad of Navy SEALS, his beautiful wife slipped off the bed and casually walked across the room. In every step she took, she swayed those toned hips of hers, sending the trained marine into a trance. Between the ridiculously transparent night-gown she wore and the thong that supplemented it so perfectly, Brian quickly forgot about his older brother’s terrible texting skills.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he met her halfway between the bed and the door. When she slipped her arms around his neck, pulling her into his warm embrace, Brain felt his heart skip a beat. In an instant, her soft touch erased memories of countless cold nights inside cramped barracks. Just feeling her skin on his again, and all the loving warmth that came with it, was enough to sooth the soul of any hardened soldier.

“Wanda,” Brian said, already dazed by her warmth.

“You’ve been away for so long, fighting the good fight and doing your part for your country,” Wanda told him, sounding so sexy yet so intense. “Now, you’re finally home.”

“And I don’t intend to leave again,” he told her, clinging to her as though she were the only source of warmth in the world. “I’m here to stay this time.”

“And I’m here to love you as much as a wife can love her Marine Corp husband. I knew the day I accepted your proposal that it was going to be a challenge. Lucky for you, I’m the kind of girl who likes a challenge!”

“Yeah,” he said with a wide grin, “lucky indeed.”

“Even my mother warned me that marrying a marine meant a lot of lonely nights and long distances. She also gave me that corny line about absence making the heart grow fonder. I brushed it off at the time, but it’s true, damn it!”

“I know…so true.”

Her loving tone took on a sense of desperation. Now cupping his rugged face, which he hadn’t shaved in nearly a week, Wanda leaned in closer so that her forehead rested against his. The way she held him and the way he held her only proved that corny saying even more. Distance and longing had only strengthened their love.

Brian had heard more than his share of sad stories from his fellow soldiers. That same distance had ruined relationships and marriages for some. It had even led to bitter breakups. Some of his own squad-mates even warned him about getting married while still in the marines. They said outright that the odds were against him. At that moment though, holding Wanda in his arms again, he knew without a sliver of doubt that they had beaten those odds.

“I’ve missed you so much, Brian,” she said to him, her every word laced with emotion.

“I’ve missed you too, Wanda,” he replied, trying in vain to match her passion.

“Now that you’re back, I’m ready for the next challenge, whatever it may be.”

“So am I,” he said without hesitation.

“I don’t doubt that for a second, but before we even get to those challenges…I say we do a little celebrating.”

The way she said that last part sent his hard, as well as a few other body parts, into overdrive. With her arms still securely around his neck, she leaned in and kissed down the side of his bearded face, giving his ear lobe a little nibble along the way.

She knew how much he loved that. She’d done it the first time they made love and since then, it had been that unambiguous sign that they were going to get extra intimate. Tonight was no exception.

Upon sending that signal, Wanda guided lightly grasped his arms and guided him towards the bed. Already entranced by her sexy, loving aura, Brian followed like the obedient soldier he was. Upon reaching the foot of the bed, she sat him down. She even made sure he had a perfect view of her breasts, which were so clearly visible through her nighty.

“Sit down,” she said seductively. “Relax…and let me welcome you home.”

“I’m already feeling pretty welcome,” Brian said as he admired her breasts.

“That remains to be seen, my love.”

Wanda sounded determined again, like one of his old squad mates who’d been dared into a race. That brought out the best in soldiers, but it also brought out the best in sexy wives.

Armed with that drive, Wanda reached for his pants and undid them with the skill of a trained bomb technician. Once loose, she dropped to her knees and pulled them down his legs along with his underwear, even untying his boots along the way. As soon as his manhood popped free, it began hardening. The second his pants came off, got between his legs and went to work.

“I see some parts of you missed me more than others,” Wanda teased upon taking his member in both hands.

“You have no idea,” Brain said, already breathless with anticipation.

“More so than you think,” she quipped.

With the eagerness of a woman who’d endured as many lonely nights as him, she smothered his cock with her lips. There was no hesitation, whatsoever. She took in his entire length, showing that her gag reflex was every bit as good as it had been during their honeymoon. That hot, warm feeling sent shivers of bliss up through his body. Now leaning back on both arms, Brian soaked in the feeling.

“Whoa!” he gasped. “Wanda…you really missed me.”

His affectionate wife didn’t miss a beat. Like a medic performing triage, she gave him the kind of oral sex that got his blood flowing in all the right directions. She was so skilled and thorough, her soft lips slithering along his length as her firm grip squeezed the base. He must have missed his wife more than he thought because he swore he’d never gotten so hard so fast.

It must have surprised her too, his dick getting so hard. That, or his wife was just that good at giving her husband oral sex. He preferred to think it was a little of both. Wanda still kept teasing him, flashing him that same erotic glance that made him want her so much. All that time apart hadn’t dampened her libido. If anything, it intensified it.

“Mmm…Brian,” Wanda said after giving his shaft an extra thorough lick. “I want you…so much!”

She must have stepped up the timetables for her mission because she shot back to her feet with an urgency that would’ve impressed any drill sergeant. Then, drink on passion and desire, she took off her nighty, leaving her in just that skimpy black thong. Brian literally couldn’t kick his boots and socks off quickly enough because she practically tore his shirt off, rendering him naked and at the mercy of his wife’s lust.

“I want you too, my dutiful wife,” he said to her, using that extra deep voice he knew drove her wild.

“Then, take me!” Wanda said intently. “Make love to me…fuck me…do everything you couldn’t do through email and phone calls.”

“After all this time? You think you can handle it?” Brian asked, goading her with his seductive glance.

“As I already said…I like a challenge!”

As if to prove her point, she practically pounced on him after throwing his shirt to the floor. Brian caught her in his powerful arms, lifting her up with ease and laying her down atop the soft sheets. The fact the sheets bore the emblems of the Marine Corp on them somehow made that it all the more erotic.

Now on her back and urging him on with her eyes, Brian grasped the sides of her panties and slid them off down her legs. Upon tossing it across the room, her legs eagerly parted and welcomed him into her loving grasp. He could already feel the moist heat radiating from her inner thighs, exuding the utmost desire. Her flesh craved his…the line between physical and emotional desire blurred to the utmost.

Following that powerful desire, Brain got on top of her, his combat-trained body on full display for his wife. Her legs now hitched up over his shoulders, he guided his throbbing manhood towards her waiting womanhood. With a strong thrust of his hips, he entered her and officially ended months of limited intimacy.

“Ohhh Brian!” Wanda exclaimed.

He loved that sound. He’d missed that sound so much, the sweet echoes of his wife crying out his name. It motivated Brian to make love to her with all the love and passion a dedicated marine could muster.

His gaze now entirely focused on her, the same man who endured multiple rounds of basic training at boot camp channeled his physical prowess on the intimate act before him. Keeping a firm grip on her thighs, Brian began moving his body, working his hips in a steady, yet fervent progression of motions. From each movement, ecstasy and intimacy followed.

Hard manly flesh merged perfectly with warm womanly depths. It was incredible, the tight heat of her pussy surrounding his cock. It moved and slithered within her so effortlessly, his lover’s entire being embracing him as much as he embraced her. Love, sex, and passion all converged into a singular act between him and his wife.

“Wanda…so much,” Brian gasped. “I love you…so much.”

Immersed in the daze that naturally came with pleasure and affection, he eagerly smothered his lover with affection of every kind. He leaned in and kissed her, tasting those sweet lips that he’d only dreamed about during his deployments. He threw in plenty of tongue, as well. Wanda loved tongue.

Recalling his love’s various many kinks, he trailed his lips down her neck and nibbled along her shoulder. He also slipped his hands down to her butt and squeezed it, something he knew she loved as well. Much to his surprise – and a very pleasant surprise, at that – Wanda climaxed almost immediately.

“Oohhh God, I’m coming! I’m coming!” she cried out.

“Already?” he said with a grin. “You’re handling this well…very well!”

Upon making that comment, Brian steadied their sexual rhythm, allowing his wife the time and space she needed to bask in orgasmic bliss. Wanda prided herself on being theatrical when she climaxed. For that special moment, she was extra animated.

“Ohhh Brian!” she exclaimed.

The proud marine watched in a mix of awe and accomplishment as his beautiful wife arched her body, curled her toes, and grabbed hold of the bed sheets under her like they were the edge of a cliff. She did not hold back, either. She was extra loud with her euphoric cry. It might have already woke the neighbors. Even if that made for an awkward conversation tomorrow, it was so worth it.

He held his wife in his powerful arms for every second of loving bliss. Eventually, his hands found hers, their fingers interlocking as her body shuddered from her peak. Brian could still feel the extra throbbing around his manhood, the lingering echoes of her pleasure. It brought him a special kind of bliss seeing it. Knowing Wanda, though, there was no way it would end at that.

“That…may be the fastest a man has made his wife come…ever,” Wanda said, still panting heavily from her peak.

“The wives of the best soldiers deserve the best sex,” he teased. “It’s only fair.”

“Fair?” she laughed in a mischievous tone. “Brian, my love…we’re a long way from fair.”

With an energy that shouldn’t have been possible for a woman who’d just had an orgasm, Wanda shot up and captured his lips in a hard kiss. Then, with a strength that caught the marine off-guard, she turned him over so that she was flat on his back.

Their flesh remained united, her pussy still embracing his rigid cock. Now on top, looking like both an angel and a sex goddess in the erotic light, Wanda guided his hands back to her butt and she began riding him.

“You’ve done your part…and so much more,” she told him. “Now, let me…do mine!”

“Wanda…” was all Brian could get out before she silenced him with another kiss.

Marines were trained from day one not to submit or surrender. It went against everything they stood for. Under the loving touch and raw sex appeal of his beautiful wife, though, Brian gladly made an exception. Hell, every marine in history would’ve understood if they found themselves in the intimate embrace of a woman like Wanda.

True to her word, she did her part. With unbridled energy and passion, she gyrated her hips in a heated rhythm, working her pussy along the length of his cock. The ecstasy resumed, now more intense than before. Brian squeezed her heart-shaped butt, soaking in every hot sensation that followed.

She was so determined and thorough, holding onto his shoulders for maximum leverage. The sight of her loving gaze – as well as her bouncing breasts, which were always a special sight – sent him to the brink of orgasm in record time. He didn’t bother holding back. He could tell she didn’t want him to. She wanted him to share in the ecstasy as well. It was only fair, after all.

“So…so close,” he panted. “Wanda…I’m close.”

“Come, my love,” Wanda urged him. “I want this for you…for us.”

After a few thorough gyrations from his wife, Brian felt himself cross that special barrier between desire and fulfillment. White hot surges of intense pleasure shot through his core, spreading throughout his body in a sweet, satisfying release.

It was like swimming in a pool of pure pleasure and his wife was the one who dove in with him. It perfectly contrasted the strain and toil that came with being a soldier. Discomfort and grit became contentment and bliss. He felt his member tense inside her, his hot manly fluids mixing with her feminine depths. It was a perfect melding of flesh and intimacy, the kind that once seemed so distant for a soldier. It made him feel like he was truly home.

“Wanda…my beautiful Wanda,” he said in his blissful days.

“I’m here, Brian,” she told him. “We’re here now…together.”

Those were the only coherent words either of them got out. After that, the two of them now drunk on passion and pleasure, Brian embraced his wife in his arms once more and continued their overdue lovemaking. After so much time a part and so much pent up desire, there was no way the night would conclude with just one orgasm.

After that first peak, though, everything became a bit of a blur. Brian captured Wanda’s lips again in another passionate kiss, led her into a fresh round of heated foreplay, and followed their intense desires into more sex. Together, they really rocked the bed, going at it from every position they could pull off. It was like making up for all the lost time. The soldier in him would not leave any ounce of love for his wife untapped.

At some point, they ended up under the covers. Brian couldn’t tell how many times his wife climaxed, but if the ringing in his ears was any indication, it was more than enough to establish how much she missed him. He had more than his share too, pushing the endurance he’d honed as a marine to the limit.

By the time he and Wanda had fully vented their passions, they collapsed in each other’s arms, lying together in a heap of sweaty flesh and loving affection. His arms still draped around his lover, he laid with her in a state of pure contentment. The battles they endured to be together was over. Finally, Brian was ready to find peace with his wife.

“I love you,” Wanda told him.

“I love you too,” he said softly.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I’m glad I could surprise my wonderful, battle-hardened husband.”

“Me too,” Brian said with a grin, “but I’m still kicking my brother’s ass for telling you.”

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